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THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE 



„v 2 ty 

MISS MULOCK 


At:THOK OF “ JOHN HALIFAX, GENTLEMAN,” E H 


Illustrated 



.G ^^'5 

Gi 


Copyright, 1896 

BY 

Joseph Knight Company 


Coloinal ^Jrrssi 

C. H. Simonds & Co., Boston, Mass., U.S.A. 


9 





The Little Lame Prince . 


PAGE 


Frontispiece. 


The PRocEssroN had moved (jn ” . 


“ She stretched HERSELF ON Tiptoe . . . and gave 

THE Little Prince Three Kisses” . . . lo 

“ Left to play on the Grass ” .... 25 


“One Large, Round Tower, which rose up in 
THE Centre of the Plain ’ . . , . 

“He would sit at the Sliis of Windows ” 

“He sat one Day surrounded by them” . 

“There he lay, alone, quite alone” . 

“ As he floa'ped over these Oaks ” . . . 

“The Shepherd- Lad . . . shading his Eyes, looked 
up AT it” 



50 
81 ' 


86 ' 


“He found himself in his own Room” . . 115^ 

“Promise never to forsake me” . . . . 131 



THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


CHAPi'KR I. 

Y es, he was the most beautiful Prince that 
ever was born. 

Of course, being a prince, people said 
this ; but it was true besides. When he looked 
at the candle, his eyes had an expression of 
earnest inquiry quite startling in a new-born 
baby. His nose — there was not much of it 
certainly, but what there was seemed an aquiline 
shape ; his complexion was a charming, healthy 
purple ; he was round and fat, straight-limbed 
and long — in fact, a splendid baby, and every 
body was exceedingly proud of him, especially 
his father and mother, the King and Queen of 
Nomansland, who had waited for him during 
their happy reign of ten years — now made 
happier than ever, to themselves and their 
subjects, by the appearance of a son and heir. 

The only person who was not quite happy 
was the King’s brother, the heir-presumptive, 
who would have been king one day had the 


2 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


baby not been born. But as his Majesty was 
very kind to him, and even rather sorry for 
him — insomuch that at the Queen’s request he 
gave him a dukedom almost as big as a county — 
the Crown-Prince, as he was called, tried to 
seem pleased also ; and let us hope he suc- 
ceeded. 

The Prince’s christening was to be a grand 
affair. According to the custom of the country, 
there were chosen for him four-and-twenty 
godfathers and godmothers, who each had to 
give him a name, and promise to do their 
utmost for him. When he came of age, he 
himself had to choose the name — and the 
godfather or godmother — that he liked best, 
for the rest of his days. 

Meantime all was rejoicing. Subscriptions 
were made among the rich to give pleasure to 
the poor: dinners in town-halls for the working- 
men ; tea-parties in the streets for their wives ; 
and 'milk and bun feasts for the children in 
the school-rooms. For Nomansland, though I 
can not point it out in any map, or read of it in 
any history, was, I believe, much like our own 
or many another country. 

As for the Palace — which was no different 
from other palaces — it was clean “turned out 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


3 


of the windows,” as people say, with the 
preparations going on. The only quiet place 
in it was the room which, though the Prince 
was six weeks old, his mother the Queen had 
never quitted. Nobody said she was ill, 
however — it would have been so inconvenient ; 
and as she said nothing about it herself, but lay 
pale and placid, giving no trouble to any body, 
nobody thought much about her. All the 
world was absorbed in admiring the baby. 

The christening-day came at last, and it was 
as lovely as the Prince himself All the people 
in the Palace were lovely too — or thought 
themselves so — in the elegant new clothes 
which the Queen, who thought of every body, 
had taken care to give them, from the ladies- 
in-waiting down to the poor little kitchen- 
maid, who looked at herself in her pink cotton 
gown, and thought, doubtless, that there never 
was such a pretty girl as she. 

By six in the morning all the royal household 
had dressed itself in its very best; and then 
the little Prince was dressed in his best — his 
magnificent christening-robe ; which proceeding 
his Royal Highness did not like at all, but 
kicked and screamed like any common baby. 
When he had a little calmed down, they carried 


4 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


him to be looked at by the Queen his mother, 
who, though her royal robes had been brought 
and laid upon the bed, was, as every body well 
knew, quite unable to rise and put them on. 

She admired her baby very much ; kissed and 
blessed him, and lay looking at him, as she did 
for hours sometimes, when he was placed beside 
her fast asleep ; then she gave him up with 
a gentle smile, and, saying she hoped he would 
be very good, that it would be a very nice 
christening, and all the guests would enjoy 
themselves, turned peacefully over on her 
bed, saying nothing more to any body. She 
was a very uncomplaining person, the Queen — 
and her name was Dolorez. 

Every thing went on exactly as if she had 
been present. All, even the King himself, 
had grown used to her absence ; for she was 
not strong, and for years had not joined in 
any gayeties. She always did her royal duties, 
but as to pleasures, they could go on quite well 
without her, or it seemed so. The company 
arrived : great and notable persons in this and 
neighboring countries ; also the four-and-twenty 
godfathers and godmothers, who had been 
chosen with care, as the people who would 
be most useful to his Royal Highness should he 


THE LITTLE I.AME PRINCE. 


5 


ever want friends, which did not seem likely. 
What such want could possibly happen to 
the heir of the powerful monarch of Nomans- 
land? 

They came, walking two and two, with their 
coronets on their heads — being dukes and 
duchesses, princes and princesses, or the like ; 
they all kissed the child, and pronounced 
the name which each had given him. Then the 
four-and-twenty names were shouted out with 
great energy by six heralds, one after^^ the 
other, and afterward written down, to be 
preserved in the state records, in readiness 
for the next time they were wanted, which 
would be either on his Royal Highness’s coro- 
nation or his funeral. Soon the ceremony was 
over, and every body satisfied ; except, perhaps, 
the little Prince himself, who moaned faintly 
under his christening robes, which nearly smoth- 
ered him. 

In truth, though very few knew, the Prince 
in coming to the chapel had met with a slight 
disaster. His nurse — not his ordinary one, 
but the state nurse-maid — an elegant and fash- 
ionable young lady of rank, whose ‘duty it was 
to carry him to and from the chapel, had been 
so occupied in arranging her train with one 


6 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


hand, while she held the baby with the other, 
that she stumbled and let him fall, just at the 
foot of the marble staircase. To be sure, she 
contrived to pick him up again the next min- 
ute ; and the accident was so slight it seemed 
hardly worth speaking of Consequently no- 
body did speak of it. The baby had turned 
deadly pale, but did not cry, so no person a 
step or two behind could discover any thing 
wrong ; afterward, even if he had moaned, the 
silver trumpets were loud enough to drown his 
voice. It would have been a pity to let any 
thing trouble such a day of felicity. 

So, after a minute’s pause, the procession 
had moved on. Such a procession ! Heralds 
in blue and silver ; pages in crimson and gold ; 
and a troop of little girls in dazzling white, 
carrying baskets of flowers, which they strewed 
all the way before the nurse and child — finally 
the four-and-twenty godfathers and godmothers, 
as proud as possible, and so splendid to look at 
that they would have quite extinguished their 
small godson — merely a heap of lace and mus- 
lin with a baby face inside — had it not been 
for a canopy of white satin and ostrich feathers 
which was held over him wherever he was 
carried. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE 


7 






8 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


Thus, with the sun shining on them through 
the painted windows, they stood ; the King and 
his train on one side, the Prince and his attend- 
ants on the other, as pretty a sight as ever was 
seen out of fairyland. 

“ It’s just like fairyland,” whispered the eld- 
est little girl to the next eldest, as she shook 
the last rose out of her basket; “ and I think 
the only thing the Prince wants now is a fairy 
godmother.” 

“Does he?” said a shrill but soft and not 
unpleasant voice behind ; and there was seen 
among the group of children somebody — not 
a child, yet no bigger than a child — somebody 
whom nobody had seen before, and who cer- 
tainly had not been invited, for she had no 
christening clothes on. 

She was a little old woman dressed all in 
gray : gray gown ; gray hooded cloak, of a 
material excessively fine, and a tint that seemed 
perpetually changing, like the gray of an evening 
sky. Mer hair was gray, and her eyes also — even 
her complexion had a soft gray shadow over it. 
But there was nothing unpleasantly old about 
her, and her smile was as sweet and childlike 
as the Prince’s own, which stole over his pale 
little face the instant she came near enough to 
touch him. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


9 


“ Take care ! Don’t let the baby fall again.” 

The grand young lady nurse started, flush- 
ing angrily. 

“Who spoke to me? How did any body 
know? — I mean, what business has any body 
— ? ” Then, frightened, but still speaking in a 
much sharper tone than I hope young ladies of 
rank are in the habit of speaking — “ Old woman, 
you will be kind enough not to say ‘ the baby,’ 
but ‘ the Prince.’ Keep away ; his Royal High- 
ness is just going to sleep.” 

“ Nevertheless I must kiss him. I am his 
godmother.” 

“ You ! ” cried the elegant lady nurse. 

“ You ! ! ” repeated all the gentlemen and 
ladies in waiting. 

“ You ! ! ! ” echoed the heralds and pages — 
and they began to blow the silver trumpets in 
order to stop all further conversation. 

The Prince’s procession formed itself for re- 
turning — the King and his train having already 
moved off toward the palace — but on the top- 
most step of the marble stairs stood, right in 
front of all, the little old woman clothed in gray. 

She stretched herself on tip-toe by the help 
of her stick, and gave the little Prince three 
kisses. 


lO 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


AvWlBntl'. 


“ This is intolerable,” cried the young lady 
nurse, wiping the kisses off rapidly with her 
lace handkerchief. “ Such an insult to his 
Royal Highness ! Take yourself out of the 

way, old woman, 
or the King shall 
be informed imme- 
diately.” 

‘‘The King 
knows nothing of 
me, more’s the 
pity,” replied the 
old woman, with 
an indifferent air, 
as if she thought 
the loss was more 
on his Majesty’s 
side than hers. 
“ My friend in the 
palace is the 
King’s wife.” 

“ Kings have 
said the lady nurse. 



not wives, but queens,” 
with a contemptuous air. 

“ You are right,” replied the old woman. 
“ Nevertheless I know her Majesty well, and I 
love her and her child. And — since you 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


II 


dropped him on the marble stairs (this she 
said in a mysterious whisper, which made the 
young lady tremble in spite of her anger) — I 
choose to take him for my own, and be his god- 
mother, ready to help him whenever he wants 
me.” 

“ You help him ! ” cried all the group, break- 
ing into shouts of laughter, to which the little 
old woman paid not the slightest attention. 
Her soft gray eyes were fixed on the Prince, 
who seemed to answer to the look, smiling 
again and again in the causeless, aimless fashion 
that babies do smile. 

“ His Majesty must hear of this,” said a gen- 
tleman-in-waiting. 

“ His Majesty will hear quite enough news in 
a minute or two,” said the old woman, sadly. 
And again stretching up to the little Prince, she 
kissed him on the forehead solemnly. 

“ Be called by a new name which nobody has 
ever thought of. Be Prince Dolor, in memory 
of your mother Dolorez.” 

“ In memory of! ” Everybody started at the 
ominous phrase, and also at a most terrible 
breach of etiquette which the old woman had 
committed. In Nomansland, neither the king 
nor the queen were supposed to have any 


12 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


Christian name at all. They dropped it on 
their coronation-day, and it was never men- 
tioned again till it was engraved on their 
coffins when they died. 

“ Old woman, you are exceedingly ill bred,” 
cried the eldest lady-in-waiting, much horrified. 
“ How you could know the fact passes my com- 
prehension. But even if you did not know it, 
how dared you presume to hint that her most 
gracious Majesty is called Dolorez? ” 

“ Was called Dolorez,” said the old woman, 
with a tender solemnity. 

The first gentleman, called the Gold-stick-in- 
waiting, raised it to strike her, and all the rest 
stretched out their hands to seize her; but the 
gray mantel melted from between their fingers 
like air; and, before any body had time to do 
any thing more, there came a heavy, muffled, 
startling sound. 

The great bell of the palace — the bell which 
was only heard on the death of some one of the 
Royal family, and for as many times as he or 
she was years old — began to toll. They lis- 
tened, mute and horror-stricken. Some one 
counted: one — two — three — four — ^^up to 
nine-and-twenty — just the Queen’s age. 

It was, indeed, the Queen. Her Majesty was 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


13 


dead ! In the midst of the festivities she had 
slipped away, out of her new happiness and 
her old sufferings, not few nor small. Sending 
away all her women to see the grand sight — at 
least they said afterward, in excuse, that she 
had done so, and it was very like her to do it 
— she had turned with her face to the window, 
whence one could just see the tops of the dis- 
tant mountains — the Beautiful Mountains, as 
they were called — where she was born. So 
gazing, she had quietly died. 

When the little Prince was carried back to his 
mother’s room, there was no mother to kiss him. 
And, though he did not know it, there would be 
for him no mother’s kiss any more. 

As for his godmother — the little old woman 
in gray who called herself so — whether she 
melted into air, like her gown when they 
touched it, or whether she flew out of the 
chapel window, or slipped through the doorway 
among the bewildered crowd, nobody knew — 
nobody ever thought about her. 

Only the nurse, the ordinary nomely one, 
coming out of the Prince’s nursery in the mid- 
dle of the night in search of a cordial to quiet 
his continual moans, saw, sitting in the door- 
way, something which she would have thought 


14 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


a mere shadow, had she not seen shining out of 
it two eyes, gray and soft and sweet. She put 
her hand before her own, screaming loudly. 
When she took them away, the old woman was 
gone. 


CHAPTER IL 


E very body was very kind to the poor 
little Prince. I think people generally 
are kind to motherless children, whether 
princes or peasants. He had a magnificent 
nursery, and a regular suite of attendants, and 
was treated with the greatest respect and state. 
Nobody was allowed to talk to him in silly baby 
language, or dandle him, or, above all, to kiss 
him, though perhaps some people did it sur- 
reptitiously, for he was such a sweet baby that 
it was difficult to help it. 

It could not be said that the Prince missed 
his mother — children of his age can not do 
that; but somehow after she died every thing 
seemed to go wrong with him. From a beauti- 
ful baby he became sickly and pale, seeming to 
have almost ceased growing, especially in his 
legs, which had been so fat and strong. But 
after the day of his christening they withered 
and shrank ; he no longer kicked them out 
either in passion or play, and when, as he got 
to be nearly a year old, his nurse tried to make 
him stand upon them, he only tumbled down. 


6 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


This happened so many times that at last 
people began to talk about it. A prince, and 
not able to stand on his own legs ! What a 
dreadful thing ! what a misfortune for the 
country ! 

Rather a misfortune to him also, poor little 
boy ! but nobody seemed to think of that. 
And when, after a while, his health revived, 
and the old bright look came back to his sweet 
little face, and his body grew larger and 
stronger, though still his legs remained the 
same, people continued to speak of him in 
whispers, and with grave shakes of the head. 
Every body knew, though nobody said it, that 
something, it was impossible to guess what, was 
not quite right with the poor little Prince. 

Of course, nobody hinted this to the King 
his father : it does not do to tell great people 
any thing unpleasant. And besides, his Maj- 
esty took very little notice of his son, or of his 
other affairs, beyond the necessary duties of his 
kingdom. People had said he would not miss 
the Queen at all, she having been so long an 
invalid, but he did. After her death he never 
was quite the same. He established himself in 
her empty rooms, the only rooms in the palace 
whence one could see the Beautiful Mountains, 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


17 


and was often observed looking at them as if 
he thought she had flown away thither, and 
that his longing could bring her back again. 
And by a curious coincidence, which nobody 
dared inquire into, he desired that the Prince 
might be called, not by any of the four-and- 
twenty grand names given him by his god- 
fathers and godmothers, but by the identical 
name mentioned by the little old woman in 
gray — Dolor, after his mother Dolorez. 

Once a week, according to establish state 
custom, the Prince, dressed in his very best, 
was brought to the King his father for half an 
hour, but his Majesty was generally too ill and 
too melancholy to pay much heed to the child. 

Only once, when he and the Crown-Prince, 
who was exceedingly attentive to his royal 
brother, were sitting together, with Prince Dolor 
playing in a corner of the room, dragging him- 
self about with his arms rather than his legs, 
and sometimes trying feebly to crawl from one 
chair to another, it seemed to strike the father 
that all was not right with his son. 

“How old is his Royal Highness?” said he 
suddenly to the nurse. 

“ Two years, three months, and five days, 
please your Majesty.” 


1 8 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

“ It does not please me,” said the King, with 
a sigh. “ He ought to be far more forward 
than he is now — ought he not, brother? You, 
who have so many children, must know. Is 
there not something wrong about him ? ” 

“ Oh no,” said the Crown-Prince, exchang- 
ing meaning looks with the nurse, who did not 
understand at all, but stood frightened and 
trembling with the tears in her eyes. “ Noth- 
ing to make your Majesty at all uneasy. No 
doubt his Royal Highness will outgrow it in 
time.” 

“ Outgrow — what? ” 

‘‘ A slight delicacy — ahem ! — in the spine ; 
something inherited, perhaps, from his dear 
mother.” 

“ Ah, she was always delicate ; but she was 
the sweetest woman that ever lived. Come 
here, my little son.” 

And as the Prince turned round upon his 
father a small, sweet, grave face — so like his 
mother’s — his Majesty the King smiled and 
held out his arms. But when the boy came to 
him, not running like a boy, but wriggling awk- 
wardly along the floor, the royal countenance 
clouded over. 

“ I ought to have been told of this^ It 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


19 


is terrible — terrible ! And for a prince too. 
Send for all the doctors in my kingdom im- 
mediately.” 

They came, and each gave a different opinion, 
and ordered a different mode of treatment. 
The only thing they agreed in was what had 
been pretty well known before, that the Prince 
rnust have been hurt when he was an infant — 
let fall, perhaps, so as to injure his spine and 
lower limbs. Did nobody remember? 

No, nobody. Indignantly, all the nurses 
denied that any such accident had happened, 
was possible to have happened, until the faith- 
ful country nurse recollected that it really had 
happened on the day of the christening. For 
which unluckily good memory all the others 
scolded her so severely that she had no peace 
of her life, and soon after, by the influence of 
the young lady nurse who had carried the 
baby that fatal day, and who was a sort of con- 
nection of the Crown-Prince — being his wife’s 
second cousin once removed — the poor wo- 
man was pensioned off, and sent to the Beauti- 
ful Mountains, from whence she came, with or- 
ders to remain there for the rest of her days. 

But of all this the King knew nothing, for, 
indeed, after the first shock of finding out that 


20 


THE LITTLE, LAME PRINCE. 


his son could not walk, and seemed never likely 
to walk, he interfered very little concerning him. 
The whole thing was too painful, and his Maj- 
esty never liked painful things. Sometimes he 
inquired after Prince Dolor, and they told him 
his Royal Highness was going on as well as 
could be expected, which really was the case. 
For, after worrying the poor child and perplex- 
ing themselves with one remedy after another, 
the Crown-Prince, not wishing to offend any of 
the differing doctors, had proposed leaving him 
to Nature ; and Nature, the safest doctor of 
all, had come to his help, and done her best. 
He could not walk, it is true; his limbs were 
mere useless appendages to his body ; but the 
body itself was strong and sound. And his 
face was the same as ever — just his mother’s 
face, one of the sweetest in the world. 

Even the King, indifferent as he was, some- 
times looked at the little fellow with sad 
tenderness, noticing how cleverly he learned to 
crawl and swing himself about by his arms, so 
that in his own awkward way he was as active 
in motion as most children of his age. 

“ Poor little man ! he does his best, and he 
is not unhappy — not half so unhappy as I, 
brother,” addressing the Crown-Prince, who was 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


21 


more constant than ever^in his attendance tipon 
the sick monarch. “ If any thing should befall 
me, I have appointed you as Regent. In case of 
my death, you will take care of my poor lit- 
tle boy ? ” 

“ Certainly, certainly ; but do not let us imag- 
ine any such misfortune. I assure your Maj- 
esty — every body will assure you — that it is 
not in the least likely.” 

He knew, however, and every body knew, 
that it was likely, and soon after it actually did 
happen. The King died as suddenly and 
quietly as the Queen had done — indeed, in her 
very room and bed ; and Prince Dolor was left 
without either father or mother — as sad a 
thing as could happen, even to a prince. 

He was more than that now, though. He 
was a king. In Nomansland, as in other coun- 
tries, the people were struck with grief one day 
and revived the next. “The king is dead^ — 
long live the king ! ” was the cry that rang 
through the nation, and almost before his late 
Majesty had been laid beside the Queen in 
their splendid mausoleum, crowds came throng- 
ing from all parts to the royal palace, eager to 
see the new monarch. 

They did see him — the Prince Regent took 


22 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


care they should — sitting on the floor of the 
council-chamber, sucking his thumb ! And 
when one of the gentlemen-in-waiting lifted him 
up and carried him — fancy, carrying a king ! — 
to the chair of state, and put the crown on his 
head, he shook it off again, it was so heavy and 
uncomfortable. Sliding down to the foot of the 
throne, he began playing with the golden lions 
that supported it, stroking their paws and put- 
ting his tiny fingers into their eyes, and laugh- 
ing — laughing as if he had at last found some- 
thing to amuse him. 

“ There’s a fine king for you ! ” said the first 
lord-in-waiting, a friend of the Prince Regent’s 
(the Crown-Prince that used to be, who, in the 
deepest mourning, stood silently beside the 
throne of his young nephew. He was a hand- 
some man, very grand and clever-looking). 
“ What a king ! who can never stand to receive 
his subjects, never walk in processions, who to 
the last day of his life will have to be carried 
about like a baby. Very unfortunate ! ” 

“ Exceedingly unfortunate,” repeated the 
second lord. “ It is always bad for a nation 
when its king is a child ; but such a child — a 
permanent cripple, if not worse.” 

Let us hope not worse,” said the first lord 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


23 


in a very hopeless tone, and looking toward the 
Regent, who stood erect and pretended to hear 
nothing. “ I have heard that these sort of 
children with very large heads, and great broad 
foreheads and staring eyes, are — well, well, let 
us hope for the best and be prepared for the 
worst. In the mean time — ” 

“ I swear,” said the Crown-Prince, coming 
forward and kissing the hilt of his sword — “I 
swear to perform my duties as Regent, to take 
all care of his Royal Highness — his Majesty, 
I mean,” with a grand bow to the little child, 
who laughed innocently back again. “ And I 
will do my humble best to govern the country. 
Still, if the country has the slightest objection — ” 

But the Crown-Prince being generalissimo, 
and having the 'whole army at his beck and 
call, so that he could have begun a civil war in 
no time, the country had, of course, not the 
slightest objection. 

So the King and Queen slept together in 
peace, and Prince Dolor reigned over the land 
— that is, his uncle did; and every body said 
what a fortunate thing it was for the poor little 
Prince to have such a clever uncle to take care 
of him. All things went on as usual ; indeed, 
after the Regent had brought his wife and her 


24 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


seven sons, and established them in the palace, 
rather better than usual. For they gave such 
splendid entertainments and made the capital 
so lively that trade revived, and the country 
was said to be more flourishing than it had been 
for a century. 

Whenever the Regent and his sons appeared, 
they were received with shouts — “ Long live 
the Crown-Prince ! ” “ Long live fl;he Royal 

family ! ” And, in truth, they were very fine 
children, the whole seven of them, and made a 
great show when they rode out together on 
seven beautiful horses, one height above another, 
down to the youngest, on his tiny black pony, 
no bigger than a large dog. 

As for the other child, his Royal Highness 
Prince Dolor — for somehow people soon ceased 
to call him his Majesty, which seemed such a 
ridiculous title for a poor little fellow, a helpless 
cripple, with only head and trunk, and no legs 
to speak of — he was seen very seldom by any 
body. 

Sometimes people daring enough to peer 
over the high wall of the palace garden noticed 
there, carried in a footman’s arms, or drawn in 
a chair, or left to play on the grass, often with 
nobody to mind him, a pretty little boy, with a 


THE LITTLE LAME 


PRINCE. 




26 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


bright, intelligent face and large, melancholy 
eyes — no, not exactly melancholy, for they 
were his mother’s, and she was by no means 
sad-minded, but thoughtful and dreamy. They 
rather- perplexed people, 'those childish eyes ; 
they were so exceedingly innocent and yet so 
penetrating. If any body did a wrong thing — 
told a lie, for instance — they would turn round 
with such a grave, silent surprise — the child 
never talked much — that every naughty person 
in the palace was rather afraid of Prince Dolor. 

He could not help it, and perhaps he did not 
even know it, being no better a child than many 
other children, but there was something about 
him which made bad people sorry, and grum- 
bling people ashamed of themselves, and ill- 
natured people gentle and kind. I suppose 
because they were touched to see a poor little 
fellow who did not in the least know whaf had 
befallen him or what lay before him, living his 
baby life as happy as the day was long. Thus, 
whether or not he was good himself, the sight 
of him and his affliction made other people 
good, and, above all, made every body love 
him — so much so, that his uncle the Regent 
began to feel a little uncomfortable. 

Now I have nothing to say against uncles in 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


27 


general. They are usually very excellent peo- 
ple, and very convenient to little boys and girls. 
Even the “cruel uncle” of “ The Babes in the 
Wood ” I believe to be quite an exceptional 
character. And this “ cruel uncle ” of whom I 
am telling was, I hope, an exception too. 

He did not mean to be cruel. If any body 
had called him so, he would have resented it 
extremely: he would have said that what he 
did was done entirely for the good of the coun- 
try. But he was a man who had always been 
accustomed to consider himself first and fore- 
most, believing that whatever he wanted was 
sure to be right, and therefore he ought to have 
it. So he tried to get it, and got it too, as 
people like him very often do. Whether they 
enjoy it when they have it is another question. 

Therefore he went one day to the council- 
chamber, determined on making a speech, and 
informing the ministers and the country at 
large that the young King was in failing health, 
and that it would be advisable to send him for 
a time to the Beautiful Mountains. Whether 
he really meant to do this, or whether it oc- 
curred to him afterward that there would be an 
easier way of attaining his great desire, the 
crown of Nomansland, is a point which I can 
not decide. 


28 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


But soon after, when he had obtained an 
order in council to send the King away — 
which was done in great state, with a guard of 
honor composed of two whole regiments of 
soldiers — the nation learned, without much 
surprise, that the poor little Prince — nobody 
ever called him king now — had gone a much 
longer journey than to the Beautiful Mountains. 

He had fallen ill on the road and died within 
a few hours ; at least so declared the physician 
in attendance and the nurse who had been 
sent to take care of him. They brought his 
coffin back in great state, and buried it in 
the mausoleum with his parents. 

So Prince Dolor was seen no more. The 
country went into deep mourning for him, and 
then forgot him, and his uncle reigned in 
his stead. That illustrious personage accepted 
his crown with great decorum, and wore it 
with great dignity to the last. But whether 
he enjoyed it or not there is no evidence to 
show. 


CHAPTER III. 


A nd what of the little lame Prince, whom 
every body seemed so easily to have 
forgotten? 

Not every body. There were a few kind 
souls, mothers of families, who had heard his 
sad story, and some servants about the palace, 
who had been familiar with his sweet ways — 
these many a time sighed and said “ Poor 
Prince Dolor ! ” Or, looking at the Beautiful 
Mountains, which were visible all overNomans- 
land, though few people ever visited them, 
“ Well, perhaps his Royal Highness is better 
where he is than even there. 

They did not know — indeed, hardly any 
body did know — that beyond the mountains, 
between them and the sea, lay a tract of 
country, barren, level, bare, except for short, 
stunted grass, and here and there a patch 
of tiny flowers. Not a bush — not a tree — 
not a resting-place for bird or beast was in 
that dreary plain. In summer, the sunshine 
fell upon it hour after hour with a blinding 
glare ; in winter, the winds and rains swept 


30 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


over it unhindered, and the snow came down 
steadily, noiselessly, covering it from end to 
end in one great white sheet, which lay for 
days and weeks unmarked by a single foot- 
print. 



sign that human creatures had ever been 
near the spot was one large round tower which 
rose up in' the centre of the plain, and might be 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 31 

seen all over it — if there had been any body to 
see, which there never was. Rose right up out 
of the ground, as if it had grown of itself, like 
a mushroom. But it was not at all mushroom- 
like ; on the contrary, it was very solidly 
built. In form it resembled the Irish round 
towers, which have puzzled people for so long, 
nobody being able to find out when, or by 
whom, or for what purpose they were made ; 
seemingly for no use at all, like this tower. 
It was circular, of very firm brickwork, with 
neither doors nor windows, until near the top, 
when you could perceive some slits in the 
wall through which one might possibly creep in 
or look out. Its height was nearly a hundred 
feet, and it had a battlemented parapet, showing 
sharp against the sky. 

As the plain was quite desolate — almost 
like a desert, only without sand, and led to 
nowhere except the still more desolate sea- 
coast — nobody ever crossed it. Whatever 
mystery there was about the tower, it and the 
sky and the plain kept their secret to them- 
selves. 

It was a very great secret indeed — a state 
secret — which none but so clever a man as 
the present King of Nomansland would ever 


32 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


have thought of. How he carried it out, undis- 
covered, I can not tell. People said, long 
afterward, that it was by means of a gang of 
condemned criminals, who were set to work, 
and executed immediately after they had done, 
so that nobody knew any thing, or in the 
least suspected the real fact. 

And what was the fact? Why, that this 
tower, which seemed a mere mass of masonry, 
utterly forsaken and uninhabited, was not so at 
all. Within twenty feet of the top some ingeni- 
ous architect had planned a perfect little house, 
divided into four rooms — as by drawing a cross 
within a circle you will see might easily be 
done. By making sky-lights, and a few slits 
in the walls for windows, and raising a peaked 
roof which was hidden by the parapet, here 
was a dwelling complete, eighty feet from the 
ground, and as inaccessible as a rook’s nest on 
the top of a tree. 

A charming place to live in ! if you once got 
up there, and never wanted to come down 
again. 

Inside — though nobody could have looked 
inside except a bird, and hardly even a bird flew 
past that lonely tower — inside it was furnished 
with all the comfort and elegance imaginable ; 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


33 


with lots of books and toys, and every thing that 
the heart of a child could desire. For its only 
inhabitant, except a nurse of course, was a poor 
solitary child. 

One winter night, when all the plain was 
white with moonlight, there was seen crossing it 
a great tall black horse, ridden by a man also 
big and equally black, carrying before him on 
the saddle a woman and a child. The woman — 
she had a sad, fierce look, and no wonder, for 
she was a criminal under sentence of death, but 
her sentence had been changed to almost as 
severe a punishment. She was to inhabit the 
lonely tower with the child, and was allowed to 
live as long as the child lived — no longer. 
This, in order that she might take the utmost 
care of him ; for those who put him there were 
equally afraid of his dying and of his living. 
And yet he was only a little gentle boy, with a 
sweet, sleepy smile — he had been very tired 
with his long journey — and clinging arms, 
which held tight to the man’s neck, for he was 
rather frightened, and the face, black as it was, 
looked kindly^ at him. And he was very 
helpless, with his poor, small, shrivelled legs, 
which could neither stand nor run away — for 
the little forlorn l^oy was Prince Dolor. 


34 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


He had not been dead at all — or buried 
either. His grand funeral had been a mere 
pretence: a wax figure having been put in his 
place, while he himself was spirited away under 
charge of these two, the condemned woman 
and the black man. The latter was deaf and 
dumb, so could neither tell nor repeat any thing. 

When they reached the foot of the tower, 
there was light enough to see a huge chain 
dangling from the parapet, but dangling only 
half way. The deaf-mute took from his saddle- 
wallet a sort of ladder, arranged in pieces -like 
a puzzle, fitted it together, and lifted it up to 
meet the chain. Then he mounted to the top 
of the tower, and slung from it a sort of chair, 
in which the woman and the child placed them 
selves and were drawn up, never to come down 
again as long as they lived. Leaving them 
there, the man descended the ladder, took it to 
pieces again and packed it in his pack, mounted 
the horse, and disappeared across the plain. 

Every month they used to watch for him, ap- 
pearing like a speck in the distance. He fast- 
ened his horse to the foot of the tower, and 
climbed it, as before, laden with provisions and 
many other things. He always saw the Prince, 
so as to make sure that the child was alive and 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 35 

well, and then went away until the following 
month. 

While his first childhood lasted, Prince Dolor 
was happy enough. He had every luxury that 
even a prince could need, and the one thing 
wanting — love — never having known, he did 
not miss. His nurse was very kind to him, 
though she was a wicked woman. But either 
she had not been quite so wicked as people 
said, or she grew better through being shut up 
continually with a little innocent child, who was 
dependent upon her for every comfort and 
pleasure of his life. 

It was not an unhappy life. There was no- 
body to tease or ill-use him, and he was never 
ill. He played about from room to room — 
there were four rooms, parlor, kitchen, his 
nurse’s bedroom, and his own ; learned to crawl 
like a fly, and to jump like a frog, and to run 
about on all-fours almost as fast as a puppy. 
In fact, he was very much like a puppy or a 
kitten, as thoughtless and as merry — scarcely 
ever cross, though sometimes a little weary. 

As he grew older, he occasionally liked to be 
quiet for a while, and then he would sit at 
the slits of windows — which were, however, 
much bigger than they looked from the bottom 


JK 


s 




36 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

* j * 

* 

• r 


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THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


37 


of the tower — and watch the sky above and 
the ground below, with the storms sweeping 
over and the sunshine coming and going, and 
the shadows of the clouds running races across 
the blank plain. 

By and by he began to learn lessons — not 
that his nurse had been ordered to teach him, 
but she did it partly to amuse herself She was 
not a stupid woman, and Prince Dolor was by 
no means a stupid boy ; so they got on very 
well, and his continual entreaty, “ What can I 
do ? what can you find me to do ? ” was 
stopped, at least for an hour or two in the day. 

It was a dull life, but he had never known 
any other; anyhow, he remembered no other, 
and he did not pity himself at all. Not for a 
long time, till he grew quite a big little boy, 
and could read quite easily. Then he suddenly 
took to books, which the deaf-mute brought 
him from time to time — books which, not be- 
ing acquainted with the literature of Nomans- 
land, I cannot describe, but no doubt they were 
very interesting ; and they informed him of 
every thing in the outside world, and filled him 
with an intense longing to see it. 

From this time a change came over the boy. 
He began to look sad and thin, and to shut 


38 


THE LITTLE LA.ME PRINCE. 


himself up for hours without speaking. For his 
nurse hardly spoke, and whatever questions he 
asked beyond their ordinary daily life she 
never answered. She had, indeed, been for- 
bidden, on pain of death, to tell him anything 
about himself, who he was, or what he might 



have been. He knew he was Prince Dolor, be- 
cause she always addressed him as “ My Prince,” 
and “ Your Royal Highness,” but what a prince 
was he had not the least idea. He had no idea 
of any thing in the world, except what he 
found in his books. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


39 


He sat one day surrounded by them, having 
built them up round him like a little castle wall. 
He had been reading them half the day, but feel- 
ing all the while that to read about things which 
you never can see is like hearing about a beau- 
tiful dinner while you are starving. For al- 
most the first time in his life he grew melan- 
choly ; his hands fell on his lap ; he sat gazing 
out of the window- slit upon the view outside — 
the view he had looked at every day of his life, 
and might look at for endless days more. 

Not a very cheerful view — just the plain and 
the sky — but he liked it. He used to think, if 
he could only fly out of that window, up to the 
sky or down to the plain, how nice it would be ! 
Perhaps when he died — his nurse had told 
him once in anger that he would never leave 
the tower till he died — he might be able to do 
this. Not that he understood much what dying 
meant, but it must be a change, and any change 
seemed to him a blessing. 

“ And I wish I had somebody to tell me all 
about it — about that and many other things; 
somebody that would be fond of me, like my 
poor white kitten.” 

Here the tears capie into his eyes, for the 
boy’s one friend, the one interest of his life, had 


40 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


been a little white kitten, which the deaf-mute, 
kindly smiling, once took out of his pocket and 
gave him — the only living creature Prince 
Dolor had ever seen. For four weeks it was his 
constant plaything and companion, till one 
moonlight night it took a fancy for wandering, 
climbed'On to the parapet of the tower, dropped 
over and disappeared. It was not killed, he 
hoped, for cats have nine lives ; indeed, he al- 
most fancied he saw it pick itself up and scam- 
per away ; but he never caught sight of it more. 

“ Yes, I wish I had something better than a 
kitten — a person, a real live person, who would 
be fond of me and kind to me. Oh, I want 
somebody — dreadfully, dreadfully ! ” 

As he spoke, there sounded behind him a 
slight tap-tap-tap, as of a stick or a cane, and 
twisting himself round, he saw — what do you 
think he saw? 

Nothing either frightening or ugly, but still 
exceedingly curious. A little woman, no bigger 
than he might himself have been had his legs 
grown like those of other children ; but she was 
not a child — she was an old woman. Her hair 
was gray, and her dress was gray, and there 
was a gray shadow over her wherever she 
moved. But she had the sweetest smile, the 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


41 


prettiest hands, and when she spoke it was in 
the softest voice imaginable. 

“My dear little boy” — and dropping her 
cane, the only bright and rich thing about her, 
she laid those two tiny hands on his shoulders 
— “ my own little boy, I could not come to you 
until you had said you wanted me; but now 
you do want me, here I am.” 

“And you are very welcome, madam,” re- 
plied the Prince, trying to speak politely, as 
princes always did in books ; “ and I am 
exceedingly obliged to you. May I ask who 
you are? Perhaps my mother?” For he 
knew that little boys usually had a mother, and 
had occasionally wondered what had become of 
his own. 

“ No,” said the visitor, with a tender, half-sad 
smile, putting back the hair from his forehead, 
and looking right into his eyes — “No, I am 
not your mother, though she was a dear friend 
of mine ; and you are as like her as ever you 
can be.” 

“ Will you tell her to come and see me then? ” 

“ She can not; but I dare say she knows all 
about you. And she loves you very much — 
and so do I ; and I want to help you all I can, 
my poor little boy.” 


42 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


“Why do you call me poor?” asked Prince 
Dolor, in surprise. 

The little old woman glanced down on his 
legs and feet, which he did not know were dif- 
ferent from those of other children, and then at 
his sweet, bright face, which, though he knew 
not that either, was exceedingly different from 
many children’s faces, which are often so fret- 
ful, cross, sullen. Looking at him, instead of 
sighing, she smiled. “ I beg your pardon, my 
Prince,” said she. 

“Yes, I am a prince, and my name is Dolor; 
will you tell me yours, madam? ” 

The little old woman laughed like a chime of 
silver bells. 

“ I have not got a name — or, rather, I have 
so many names that I don’t know which to 
choose. However, it was I who gave you yours, 
and you will belong to me all your days. I am 
your godmother.” 

“ Hurrah ! ” cried the little Prince ; “ I am 
glad I belong to you, for I like you very much. 
Will you come and play with me ? ” 

So they sat down together and played. By 
and by they began to talk. 

“Are you very dull here?” asked the little 
old woman. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


43 


“ Not particularly, thank you, godmother. I 
have plenty to eat and drink, and my lessons to 
do, and my books to read — lots of books.” 

“ And you want nothing?” 

“Nothing. Yes — perhaps — If you please, 
godmother, could you bring me just one more 
thing? ” 

“ What sort of thing? ” 

“ A little boy to play with.” 

The old woman looked very sad. “Just the 
thing, alas, which I can not give you. My 
child, I can not alter your lot in any way, but 
I can help you to bear it.” 

“ Thank you. But why do you talk of bear- 
ing it? I have nothing to bear.” 

“ My poor little man ! ” said the old woman, 
in the very tenderest tone of her tender voice. 
“ Kiss me ! ” 

“What is kissing?” asked the wondering 
child. 

His godmother took him in her arms and 
embraced him many times. By and by he 
kissed her back again — at first awkwardly and 
shyly, then with all the strength of his warm little 
heart. 

“ You are better to cuddle than even my 


44 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


white kitten, I think. Promise me that you 
will never go away.” 

“ I must ; but I will leave a present behind 
me — something as good as myself to amuse 
you — something that will take you wherever 
you want to go, and show you all that you wish 
to see.” 

“ What is it? ” 

“ A travelling-cloak.” 

The Prince’s countenance fell. “ I don’t 
want a cloak, for I never go out. Sometimes 
nurse hoists me on to the roof, and carries me 
round by the parapet ; but that is all. I can’t 
walk, you know, as she does.” 

“ The more reason why you should ride ; and 
besides, this travelling-cloak — ” 

“ Hush ! — she’s coming.” 

There sounded outside the room door a 
heavy step and a grumpy voice, and a rattle 
of plates and dishes. 

“ It’s my nurse, and she is bringing my din- 
ner; but I don’t want dinner at ail — I only 
want you. Will her coming drive you away, 
godmother?” 

“ Perhaps; but only for a little while. Never 
mind; all the bolts and bars in the world 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


45 


couldn’t keep me out. I’d fly in at the win- 
dow, or down through the chimney. Only wish 
for me, and I come.” 

“ Thank you,” said Prince Dolor, but almost 
in a whisper, for he was very uneasy at what 
might happen next. His nurse and his god- 
mother — what would they say to one another? 
how would they look at one another? — two 
such different faces : one harsh-lined, sullen, 
cross, and sad ; the other sweet and bright and 
calm as a summer evening before the dark 
begins. 

When the door was flung open. Prince Dolor 
shut his eyes, trembling all over ; opening 
them again, he saw he need fear nothing — his 
lovely old godmother had melted away just 
like the rainbow out of the sky, as he had 
watched it many a time. Nobody but his 
nurse was in the room. 

“ What a muddle your Royal Highness is 
sitting in,” said she, sharply. “ Such a heap 
of untidy books; and what’s this rubbish?” 
knocking a little bundle that lay beside them. 

“ Oh, nothing, nothing — give it me ! ” 
cried the Prince, and, darting after it, he hid it 
under his pinafore, and then pushed it quickly 


46 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

into his pocket. Rubbish as it was, it was 
left in the place where she sat, and might 
be something belonging to her — his dear, 
kind godmother, whom already he loved with 
all his lonely, tender, passionate heart. 

It was, though he did not know this, his 
wonderful travelling-cloak. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A nd what of the travelling-cloak? What 
sort of cloak was it, and what good did 
it do the Prince? 

Stay, and I’ll tell you all about it. 

Outside it was the commonest-looking bun- 
dle imaginable — shabby and small; and the 
instant Prince Dolor touched it, it grew smaller 
still, dwindling down till he could put it in his 
trousers pocket, like a handkerchief rolled up 
into a ball. He did this at once, for fear his 
nurse should see it, and kept it there all day — 
all night, too. Till after his next morning’s 
lessons he had no opportunity of examining 
his treasure. 

When he did, it seemed no treasure at all ; but 
a mere piece of cloth — circular in form, dark 
green in color — that is, if it had any color at 
all, being so worn and shabby, though not 
dirty. It had a split cut to the centre, forming 
a round hole for the neck — and that was all 
its shape ; the shape, in fact, of those cloaks 
which in South America are called ponchos — 
very simple, but most graceful and convenient. 


48 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


Prince Dolor had never seen any thing like 
it. In spite of his disappointment, he exam- 
ined it curiously; spread it out on the floor, 
then arranged it on his shoulders. It felt very 
warm and comfortable ; but it was so ^ceed- 
ingly shabby — the only shabby thing that 
the Prince had ever seen in his life. 

“And what use will it be to me?” said he, 
sadly. “ I have no need of out-door clothes', 
as I never go out. Why was this given me, I 
wonder? and what in the world am I to do with 
it? She must be a rather funny person, this dear 
godmother of mine.” 

Nevertheless, because she was his godmother, 
and had given him the cloak, he folded it 
carefully and put it away, poor and shabby as 
it was, hiding it in a safe corner of his toy- 
cupboard, which his nurse never meddled with. 
He did not want her to find it, or to laugh at 
it or at his godmother — as he felt sure she 
would, if she knew all. 

There it lay, and by and by he forgot all 
about it ; nay, I am sorry to say that, being but 
a child, and not seeing her again, he almost for- 
got his sweet old godmother, or thought of her 
only as he did of the angels or fairies that he 
read of in his books, and of her visit as if it 
had been a mere dream of the night. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


49 


There were times, certainly, when he re- 
called her : of early mornings, like that morn- 
ing when she appeared beside him, and late 
evenings, when the gray twilight reminded him 
of the color of her hair and her pretty soft gar- 
ments ; above all, when, waking in the mid- 
dle of the night, with the stars peering in at his 
window, or the moonlight shining across his 
little bed, he would not have been surprised to 
see her standing beside it, looking at him with 
those beautiful tender eyes, which seemed to 
have a pleasantness and comfort in them differ- 
ent from any thing he had ever known. 

But she never came, and gradually she 
slipped out of his memory — only a boy’s mem- 
ory, after all; until something happened which 
made him remember her, and want her as he 
had never wanted any thing before. 

Prince Dolor fell ill. He caught — his nurse 
could not tell how — a complaint common to 
the people of Nomansland, called the doldrums, 
as unpleasant as measles or any other of our 
complaints; and it made him restless, cross> 
and disagreeable. Even when a little better, 
he was too weak to enjoy any thing, but lay all 
day long on his sofa, fidgeting his nurse ex- 
tremely — while, in her intense terror lest he 


50 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


might die, she fidgeted him still more. At last, 
seeing he really was getting well, she left him to 
himself — which he was most glad of, in spite 
of his dulness and dreariness. 
There he lay, alone, quite 
alone. 

Now and then an irritable 
fit came over him, in which 


/fl w l>< If If IK <11 )l. (II III III 




THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


51 


he longed to get up and do something, or go 
somewhere — would have liked to imitate his 
white kitten — jump down from the tower and 
run away, taking the chance of whatever 
might happen. 

Only one thing, alas! was' likely to happen; 
for the kitten, he remembered, had four active 
legs, while he — 

“ I wonder what my godmother meant when 
she looked at my legs and sighed so bitterly? 
I wonder why I can’t walk straight and steady 
like m.y nurse — only I wouldn’t like to have 
her great, noisy, clumping shoes. Still it would 
be very nice to move about quickly — perhaps 
to fly, like a bird, like that string of birds I saw 
the other day skimming across the sky, one 
after the other.” 

These were the passage-birds — the only liv- 
ing creatures that ever crossed the lonely plain ; 
and he had been much interested in them, won- 
dering whence they came and whither they were 
going. 

“ How nice it must be to be a bird ! If legs 
are no good, why can not one have wings? 
People have wings when they die — perhaps; I 
wish I were dead, that I do. I am so tired, so 
tired ; and nobody cares for me. Nobody ever 


52 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

did care for me, except perhaps my godmother. 
Godmother, dear, have you quite forsaken me.^^ ” 

He stretched himself wearily, gathered him- 
self up, and dropped his head upon his hands ; 
as he did so, he felt somebody kiss him at the 
back of his neck, and, turning, found that he 
was resting, not on the sofa-pillows, but on a 
warm shoulder — that of the little old woman 
clothed in gray. 

How glad he was to see her ! How he looked 
into her kind eyes and felt her hands, to'see if 
she were all real and alive ! then put both his 
arms round her neck, and kissed her as if he 
would never have done kissing. 

“ Stop, .stop ! ” cried she, pretending to be 
smothered. “ I see you have not forgotten my 
teachings. Kissing is a good thing — in moder- 
ation. Only just let me have breath to speak 
one word.” 

“ A dozen ! ” he said. 

“Well, then, tell me all that has happened to 
you since I saw you — or, rather, since you saw 
me, which is quite a different thing.” 

“Nothing has happened — nothing ever does 
happen to me,” answered the Prince, dolefully. 

“ And are you very dull, my boy?” 

“ So dull that I was just thinking whether I 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 53 

could not jump down to the bottom of the 
tower, like my white kitten.” 

“ Don’t do that, not being a white kitten.” 

“ I wish I were ! — I wish I were any thing 
but what I am.” 

“ And you can’t make yourself any different, 
nor can I do it either. You must be content to 
stay just what you are.” 

The little old woman said this — very firmly, 
but gently, too — with her arms round his neck 
and her lips on his forehead. It was the first 
time the boy had ever heard any one talk like 
this, and he looked up in surprise — but not in 
pain, for her sweet manner softened the hardness 
of her words. 

“ Now, my Prince — for you are a prince, and 
must behave as such — let us see what we can 
do ; how much I can do for you, or show you 
how to do for yourself. Where is your travel- 
ling-cloak?” 

Prince Dolor blushed extremely. “I — I put 
it away in the cupboard ; I suppose it is there 
still.” 

“You have never used it; you dislike it?” 

He hesitated, not wishing to be impolite. 
“Don’t you think it’s — just a little old and 
shabby for a prince?” 


54 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


The old woman laughed — long and loud, 
though very sweetly. 

“ Prince, indeed ! Why, if all the princes in 
the world craved for it, they couldn’t get it, 
unless I gave it them. Old and shabby ! It’s 
the most valuable thing imaginable ! Very few 
ever have it; but I thought I would give it to 
you, because — because you are different from 
other people.” 

“Am I?” said the Prince, and looked first 
with curiosity, then with a sort of anxiety, into 
his godmother’s face, which was sad and grave, 
with slow tears beginning to steal down. 

She touched his poor little legs. “ These are 
not like those of other little boys.” 

“ Indeed ! — my nurse never told me that.” 

“ Very likely not. But it is time you were 
told ; and I tell you, because I love you.” 

“Tell me what, dear godmother? ” 

“ That you will never be able to walk or 
run or jump or play — that your life will be 
quite different to most people’s lives ; but it may 
be a very happy life for all that. Do not be 
afraid.” 

“ I ' am not afraid,” said the boy ; but he 
turned very pale, and his lips began to quiver, 
though he did not actually cry — he was too 
old for that, and, perhaps, too proud. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


55 


Though not wholly comprehending, he began 
dimly to guess what his godmother meant. 
He had never seen any real live boys, but 
he had seen pictures of them running and 
jumping; which he had admired and tried 
hard to imitate, but always failed. Now he 
began to understand why he failed, and that he 
always should fail — that, in fact, he was not 
like other little boys ; and it was of no use his 
^ wishing to do as they did, and play as they 
played, even if he had had them to play with. 
His was a separate life, in which he must find 
out new work and new pleasures for himself. 

The sense of the inevitable, as grown-up 
people' call it — that we can not have things as 
we want them to be, but as they are, and that 
we must learn to bear them and make the best 
of them — this lesson, which every body has to 
learn soon or late — came, alas ! sadly soon, 
to the poor boy. He fought against it for 
a while, and then, quite overcome, turned and 
sobbed bitterly in his godmother’s arms. 

She comforted him — I do not know how, 
except that love always comforts ; and then she 
whispered to him, in her sweet, strong, cheerful 
voice — “ Never mind ! ” 

“No, I don’t think I do mind — that is. 


56 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


I won't mind,” replied he, catching the courage 
of her tone and speaking like a man, though he 
was still such a mere boy. 

“That is right, my Prince! — that is being 
like a prince. Now we know exactly where we 
are; let us put our shoulders to the wheel 
and — ” 

“ We are in Hopeless Tower ” (this was its 
name, if it had a name), “ and there is no wheel 
to put our shoulders to,” said the child, sadly. • 
“You little matter-of-fact goose! Well for 
you that you have a godmother called — ” 

“ What? ” he eagerly asked. 

“ Stulf-and-nonsense.” 

“ Stuff- and-nonsense ! What a funny name ! ” 

“ Some people give it me, but they are not 
my most intimate friends. These call me — 
never mind what,” added the old woman, with a 
soft twinkle in her eyes. “ So as you know me, 
and know me well, you may give me any name 
you please ; it doesn’t matter. But I am your 
godmother, child. I have few godchildren ; 
those I have love me dearly, and find me the 
greatest blessing in all the world.” 

“ I can well believe it,” cried the little lame 
Prince, and forgot his troubles in looking at 
her — as her figure dilated, her eyes grew lustrous 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


57 


as stars, her very raiment brightened, and the 
whole room seemed filled with her beautiful and 
beneficent presence like light. 

He could have looked at her forever — half in 
love, half in awe ; but she suddenly dwindled 
down into the little old woman all in gray, and, 
with a malicious twinkle in her eyes, asked for 
the travelling-cloak. 

“ Bring it out of the rubbish cupboard, and 
shake the dust off it, quick ! ” said she to Prince 
Dolor, who hung his head, rather ashamed. 
“ Spread it out on the floor, and wait till the split 
closes and the edges turn up like a rim all round. 
Then go and open the sky-light — mind, I say 
open the sky-light — set yourself down in the 
middle of it, like a frog on a water-lily leaf ; say 
‘ Abracadabra, dum dum dum,’ and — see what 
will happen ! ” 

The Prince burst into a fit of laughing. It all 
seemed so exceedingly silly ; he wondered that 
a wise old woman like his godmother should talk 
such nonsense. 

“ Stufif-and-nonsense, you mean,” said she, 
answering, to his great alarm, his unspoken 
thoughts. “ Did I not tell you some people 
called me by that name? Never mind; it 
doesn’t harm me.” 


58 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


And she laughed — her merry laugh — as 
childlike as if she were the Prince’s age instead 
of her own, whatever that might be. She cer- 
tainly was a most extraordinary old woman. 

“ Believe me or not, it doesn’t matter,” said 
she. “ Here is the cloak : when you want to go 
travelling on it, Abracadabra diirn diun dum; 
when you want to come back again, say Abra- 
cadabra turn turn ti. That’s all ; good-by.” 

A puff of pleasant air passing by him, and 
making him feel for the moment quite strong and 
well, was all the Prince was conscious of. His 
most extraordinary godmother was gone. 

“ Really now, how rosy your Royal High- 
ness’s cheeks have grown ! You seem to have 
got well already,” said the nurse, entering the 
room. 

“ I think I have,” replied the Prince, very 
gently — he felt gently and kindly even to his 
grim nurse. “ And now let me have my dinner, 
and go you to your sewing as usual.” 

The instant she was gone, however, taking 
with her the plates and dishes, which for the first 
time since his illness he had satisfactorily cleared, 
Prince Dolor sprang down from his sofa, and 
with one or two of his frog-like jumps, not grace- 
ful, but convenient, he reached the cupboard 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 59 

where he kept his toys, and looked every where 
for his travelling-cloak. 

Alas ! it was not there. 

While he was ill of the doldrums, his nurse, 
thinking it a good opportunity for putting things 
to rights, had made a grand clearance of all his 
“ rubbish ” — as she considered it : his beloved 
headless horses, broken carts, sheep without 
feet, and birds without wings — all the treasures 
of his baby days, which he could not bear to 
part with. 1 hough he seldom played with them 
now, he liked just to feel they were there. 

They were all gone ! and with them the 
travelling- cloak. He sat down on the floor, 
looking at the empty shelves, so beautifully 
clean and tidy, then burst out sobbing as if his 
heart would break. 

But quietly — always quietly. He never let 
his nurse hear him cry. She only laughed at 
him, as he felt she would laugh now. 

“ And it is all my own fault,” he cried. “ I 
ought to have taken better care of my god- 
mother’s gift. Oh, godmother, forgive me ! 
I’ll never be so careless again. I don’t know 
what the cloak is exactly, but I am sure it is 
something precious. Help me to find it again. 
Oh, don’t let it be stolen from me — don’t, 
please ! ” 


6o 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


“ Ha, ha, ha ! ” laughed a silvery voice. 
“ Why, that travelling-cloak is the one thing in 
the world which nobody can steal. It is of no 
use to anybody except the owner. Open your 
eyes, my Prince, and see what you shall see.” 

His dear old godmother, he thought, had 
turned eagerly round. But no ; he only beheld, 
lying in a corner of the room, all dust and cob- 
webs, his precious travelling-cloak. 

Prince Dolor darted toward it, tumbling sev- 
eral times on the way, as he often did tumble, 
poor boy ! and pick himself up again, never 
complaining. Snatching it to his breast, he 
hugged and kissed it, cobwebs and all, as if it 
had been something alive. Then he began un- 
rolling it, wondering each minute what would 
happen. But what did happen was so curious 
that I must leave it for another chapter. 


CHAPTER V. 


I F any reader, big or little, should wonder 
whether there is a meaning in this story 
deeper than that of an ordinary fairy tale, 
I will own that there is. But I have hidden it 
so carefully that the smaller people, and many 
larger folk, will never find it out, and mean- 
time the book may be read straight on, like 
“ Cinderella,” or “ Blue-Beard,” or “ Hop-o’- 
my-Thumb,” for what interest it has, or what 
amusement it may bring. 

Having said this, I return to Prince Dolor, 
that little lame boy whom many may think so 
exceedingly to be pitied. But if you had seen 
him as he sat patiently untying his wonderful 
cloak, which was done up in a very tight and 
perplexing parcel, using skilfully his deft little 
hands, and knitting his brows with firm deter- 
mination, while his eyes glistened with pleasure 
and energy and eager anticipation — if you had 
beheld him thus, you might have changed your 
opinion. 

When we see people suffering or unfortunate, 
we feel very sorry for them ; but when we see 


62 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


them bravely bearing their sufferings, and mak- 
ing the best of their misfortunes, it is quite a 
different feeling. We respect, we admire them. 
One can respect and admire even a little child. 

When Prince Dolor had patiently untied all 
the knots, a remarkable thing happened. The 
cloak began to undo itself. Slowly unfolding, 
it laid itself down on the carpet, as flat as if it 
had been ironed ; the split joined with a little 
sharp crick-crack, and the rim turned up all 
round till it was breast-high ; for meantime 
the cloak had grown and grown, and become 
quite large enough for one person to sit in it as 
comfortable as if in a boat. 

The Prince watched it rather anxiously; it 
was such an extraordinary, not to say a fright- 
ening thing. However, he was no coward, but 
a thorough boy, who, if he had been like other 
boys, would doubtless have grown up daring 
and adventurous — a soldier, a sailor, or the like. 
As it was, he could only show his courage mor- 
ally, not physically, by being afraid of nothing, 
and by doing boldly all that it was in his nar- 
row powers to do. And I am not sure but that 
in this way he showed more real valor than if he 
had had six pairs of proper legs. 

He said to himself, “ What a goose I am ! 


THE LITTI.E LAME PRINCE. 


63 


As if my dear godmother would ever have 
given me any thing to hurt me. Here goes ! ” 
So, with one of his active leaps, he sprang 
right into the middle of the cloak, where he 
squatted down, wrapping his arms tight round 
his knees, for they shook a little and his heart 
beat fast. But there he sat, steady and silent, 
waiting for what might happen next. 

Nothing did happen, and he began to think 
nothing would, and to feel rather disappointed, 
when he recollected the words he had been told 
to repeat — “ Abracadabra, dum dum dum ! ” 
He repeated them, laughing all the while, 
they seemed such nonsense. And then — and 
then — 

Now I don’t expect any body to believe what I 
am going to relate, though a good many wise peo- 
ple have believed a good many sillier things. 
And as seeing’s believing, and I never saw it, 
I can not be expected implicitly to believe it 
myself, except in a sort of a way; and yet 
there is truth in it — for some people. 

The cloak rose, slowly and steadily, at first 
only a few inches, then gradually higher and 
higher, till it nearly touched the sky-light. 
Prince Dolor’s head actually bumped against 
the glass, or would have done so had he not 


64 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

crouched down, crying “ Oh, please don’t hurt 
me ! ” in a most melancholy voice. 

Then he suddenly remembered his godmoth- 
er’s express command — “ Open the sky- 
light ! ” 

Regaining his courage at once, without a 
moment’s delay he lifted up his head and be- 
gan searching for the bolt — the cloak mean- 
while remaining perfectly still, balanced in the 
air. But the minute the window was opened, 
out it sailed — right out into the clear, fresh 
air, with nothing between it and the cloudless 
blue. 

Prince Dolor had never felt any such deli- 
cious sensation before. I can understand it. 
Can not you ? Did you never think, in watch- 
ing the rooks going home singly or in pairs, 
oaring their way across the calm evening sky 
till they vanish like black dots in the misty 
gray, how pleasant it must feel to be up there, 
quite out of the noise and din of the world, 
able to hear and see every thing down below, 
yet troubled by nothing and teased by no one 
— all alone, but perfectly content? 

Something like this was the happiness of the 
little lame Prince when he got out of Hopeless 
Tower, and found himself for the first time in 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 65 

the pure open air, with the sky above him and 
the earth below. 

True, there was nothing but earth and sky ; 
no houses, no trees, no rivers, mountains, seas 
— not a beast on the ground, or a bird in the 
air. But to him even the level plain looked 
beautiful ; and then there was the glorious arch 
of the sky, with a little young moon sitting in 
the west like a baby queen. And the evening 
breeze was so sweet and fresh — it kissed him 
like his godmother’s kisses ; and by and by a 
few stars came out — first two or three, and 
then quantities — quantities ! so that when he 
began to count them he was utterly bewildered. 

By this time, however, the cool breeze had 
become cold ; the mist gathered ; and as he 
had, as he said, no outdoor clothes, poor Prince 
Dolor was not very comfortable. The dews 
fell damp on his curls — he began to shiver. 

“Perhaps I had better go home,” thought he. 

But how? For in his excitement the other 
words which his godmother had told him to 
use had slipped his memory. They were only 
a little different from the first, but in that slight 
difference all the importance lay. As he re- 
peated his “ Abracadabra,” trying ever so many 
other syllables after it, the cloak only went 


66 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


faster and faster, skimming on through the 
dusky, empty air. 

The poor little Prince began to feel frightened. 
What if his wonderful travelling-cloak should 
keep on thus travelling, perhaps to the world’s 
end, carrying with it a poor, tired, hungry 
boy, who, after all, was beginning to think 
there was something very pleasant in supper 
and bed? 

“ Dear godmother,” he cried pitifully, “ do 
help me ! Tell me just this once and I’ll never 
forget again.” 

Instantly the words came rushing into his 
head — “Abracadabra, turn turn ti ! ” Was 
that it ? Ah ! yes — for the cloak began to 
turn slowly. He repeated the charm again, 
more distinctly and firmly, when it gave a gen- 
tle dip, like a nod of satisfaction, and immedi- 
ately started back, as fast as ever, in the direc- 
tion of the tower. 

He reached the sky-light, which he found 
exactly as he had left it, and slipped in, cloak 
and all, as easily as he had got out. He had 
scarcely reached the floor, and was still sitting 
in the middle of his travelling-cloak — like a 
frog on a water-lily leaf, as his godmother had 
expressed it — when he heard his nurse’s voice 
outside. 


THE ITTTLE LAME PRINCE. 


67 


“ Bless us ! what has become of your Royal 
Highness all this time? To sit stupidly here 
at the window till it is quite dark, and leave 
the sky-light open, too. Prince ! what can you 
be thinking of? You are the silliest boy I 
ever knew.” 

“ Am I ? ” said he, absently, and never heed- 
ing her crossness ; for his only anxiety was lest 
she might find out any thing. 

She would have been a very clever person to 
have done so. The instant Prince Dolor got 
off it, the cloak folded itself up into the tiniest 
possible parcel, tied all its own knots, and rolled 
itself of its own accord into the farthest and dark- 
est corner of the room. If the nurse had seen 
it, which she didn’t, she would have taken it for 
a mere bundle of rubbish not worth noticing. 

Shutting the sky-light with an angry bang, 
she brought in the supper and lit the candles 
with her usual unhappy expression of counte- 
nance. But Prince Dolor hardly saw it; he 
only saw, hid in the corner where nobody else 
would see it, his wonderful travelling-cloak. 
And though his supper was not particularly 
nice, he ate it heartily, scarcely hearing a word 
of his nurse’s grumbling, which to-night seemed 
to have taken the place of her sullen silence. 


68 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


“ Poor woman ! ” he thought, when he paused 
a minute to listen and look at her with those 
quiet, happy eyes, so like his mother’s. “ Poor 
woman ! she hasn’t got a travelling-cloak ! ” 

And when he was left alone at last, and crept 
into his little bed, where he lay awake a good 
while, watching what he called his “sky-gar- 
den,” all planted with stars, like flowers, his 
chief thought was — “I must be up very early 
to-morrow morning, and get my lessons done, 
and then Pll go travelling all over the world on 
my beautiful cloak.” 

So next day he opened his eyes with the 
sun, and went with a good heart to his lessons. 
They had hitherto been the chief amusement 
of his dull life ; now, I am afraid, he found 
them also a little dull. But he tried to be good 
— I don’t say Prince Dolor always was good, 
but he generally tried to be — and when his 
mind went wandering after the dark, dusty cor- 
ner where lay his precious treasure, he reso- 
lutely called it back again. 

“ For,” he said, “ how ashamed my god- 
mother would be of me if I grew up a stupid 
boy.” 

But the instant lessons were done, and he 
was alone in the empty room, he crept across 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


69 


the floor, undid the shabby little bundle, his 
fingers trembling with eagerness, climbed on the 
chair, and thence to the table, so as to unbar 
the sky-light — he forgot nothing now — said 
his magic charm, and was away out of the win- 
dow, as children say, “in a few minutes less 
than no time.” 

Nobody missed him. He was accustomed to 
sit so quietly always that his nurse, though only 
in the next room, perceived no difference. And 
besides, she might have gone in and out a 
dozen times, and it would have been just the 
same ; she never could have found out his 
absence. 

For what do you think the clever godmother 
did ? She took a quantity of moonshine, or 
some equally convenient material, and made an 
image, which she set on the window-sill read- 
ing, or by the table drawing, where it looked so 
like Prince Dolor that any common observer 
would never have guessed the deception ; and 
even the boy would have been puzzled to know 
which was the image and which was himself. 

And all this while the happy little fellow was 
away, floating in the air on his magic cloak, 
and seeing all sorts of wonderful things — or 
they seemed wonderful to him, who had hitherto 
seen nothing at all. 


70 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


First, there were the flowers that grew on the 
plain, which, whenever the cloak came near 
enough, he strained his eyes to look at; they 
were very tiny, but very beautiful — white saxi- 
frage, and yellow lotus, and ground-thistles, pur- 
ple and bright, with many others the names of 
which I do not know. No more did Prince 
Dolor, though he tried to find them out by re- 
calling any pictures he had seen of them. But 
he was too far off; and though it was pleasant 
enough to admire them as brilliant patches of 
color, still he would have liked to examine them 
all. He was, as a little girl I know once said 
of a playfellow, “ a very examining boy.” 

“ I wonder,” he thought, “whether I could see 
better through a pair of glasses like those my 
nurse reads with, and takes such care of. How 
I would take care of them, too, if I only had a 
pair ! ” 

Immediately he felt something queer and 
hard fixing itself to the bridge of his nose. It 
was a pair of the prettiest gold spectacles ever 
seen ; and looking downward, he found that, 
though ever so high above the ground, he could 
see every minute blade of grass, every tiny bud 
and flower — nay, even the insects that walked 
over them. 


T?IE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. /I 

“Thank you, thank you!” he cried, in a 
gush of gratitude — to any body or everybody, 
but especially to his dear godmother, who he 
felt sure had given him this new present. He 
amused himself with it for ever so long, with 
his chin pressed on the rim of the cloak, gazing 
down upon the grass, every square foot of which 
was a mine of wonders. 

Then, just to rest his eyes, he turned them up 
to the sky — the blue, bright, empty sky, which 
he had looked at so often and seen nothing. 

Now surely there was something. A long, 
black, wavy line, moving on in the distance, not 
by chance, as the clouds move apparently, but 
deliberately, as if it were alive. He might 
have seen it before — he almost thought he 
had ; but then he could not tell what it was. 
Looking at it through his spectacles, he discov- 
ered that it really was alive ; being a long 
string of birds, flying one after the other, their 
wings moving steadily and their heads pointed 
in one direction, as steadily as if each were a 
little ship, guided invisibly by an unerring helm. 

“ They must be the passage-birds flying sea- 
ward I ” cried the boy, who had read a little 
about them, and had a great talent for putting 
two and two together and finding out all he 


72 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


could. “Oh, how I should like to see them 
quite close, and to know where they come from, 
and whither they are going ! How I wish I 
knew every thing in all the world ! ” 

A silly speech for even an “ examining” lit- 
tle boy to make ; because, as we grow older, 
the more we know the more we find out there 
is to know. And Prince Dolor blushed when 
he had said it, and hoped nobody had heard him. 

Apparently somebody had, however ; for the • 
cloak gave a sudden bound forward, and pres- 
ently he found himself high up in air, in the 
very middle of that band of aerial travellers, 
who had no magic cloak to travel on — nothing 
except their wings. Yet there they were, mak- 
ing their fearless way through the sky. 

Prince Dolor looked at them, as one after 
the other they glided past him ; and they looked 
at him — those pretty swallows, with their 
changing necks and bright eyes — as if wonder- 
ing to meet in mid-air such an extraordinary 
sort of bird. 

“Oh, I wish I were going with you, you 
lovely creatures ! ” cried the boy. “ Pm getting 
so tired of this dull plain, and the dreary and 
lonely tower. I do so want to see the world ! 
Pretty swallows, dear swallows ! tell me what it 
looks like — the beautiful, wonderful world! '' 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


73 . 


But the swallows flew past him — steadily, 
slowly, pursuing their course as if inside each 
little head had been a mariner’s compass, to 
guide them safe over land and sea, direct to the 
place where they desired to go. 

The boy looked after them with envy. For 
a long time he followed with his eyes the faint, 
wavy, black line as it floated away, sometimes 
changing its curves a little, but never deviating 
from its settled course, till it vanished entirely 
out of sight. 

Then he settled himself down in the centre of 
the cloak, feeling quite sad and lonely. 

“ I think I’ll go home,” said he, and repeated 
his “ Abracadabra, turn turn ti ! ” with a rather 
heavy heart. The more he had, the more he 
wanted ; and it is not always one can have 
every thing one wants — at least, at the exact 
minute one craves for it ; not even though one 
is a prince, and has a powerful and beneficent 
godmother. 

He did not like to vex her by calling for her 
and telling her how unhappy he was, in spite of 
all her goodness ; so he just kept his trouble to 
himself, went back to his lonely tower, and 
spent three days in silent melancholy, without 
even attempting another journey on his travel- 
ling-cloak. 


CHAPTER VL 


T he fourth day it happened that the deaf- 
mute paid his accustomed visit, after 
which Prince Dolor’s spirits rose. They 
always did when he got the new books which, 
just to relieve his conscience, the King of 
Nomansland regularly sent to his nephew; 
with many new toys also, though the latter 
were disregarded now. 

“Toys, indeed! when Pm a big boy,” said 
the Prince, with disdain, and would scarcely 
condescend to mount a rocking-horse which 
had come, somehow or other — I can’t be ex- 
pected to explain things very exactly — packed 
on the back of the other, the great black horse, 
which stood and fed contentedly at the bottom 
of the tower. 

Prince Dolor leaned over and looked at it, 
and thought how grand it must be to get upon 
its back — this grand live steed — and ride 
away, like the pictures of knights. 

“ Suppose I was a knight,” he said to him- 
self; “.then I should be obliged to ride out and 
see the world.” 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


75 


But he kept all these thoughts to himself, 
and just sat still, devouring his new books until 
he had come to the end of them all. It was a 
repast not unlike the Barmecide’s feast which 
you read of in the “ Arabian Nights,” which 
consisted of very elegant but empty dishes, 
or that supper of Sancho Panza in “ Don 
Quixote,” where, the minute the smoking 
dishes came on the table, the physician waved 
his hand and they were all taken away. 

Thus almost all the ordinary delights of boy- 
life had been taken away from, or rather never 
given to, this poor little Prince. 

“I wonder,” he would sometimes think — “ I 
wonder what it feels like to be on the bkck of a 
horse, galloping away, or holding the reins in a 
carriage, and tearing across the country, or 
jumping a ditch, or running a race, such as I 
read of or see in pictures. What a lot of 
things there are that I should like to do ! But 
first I should like to go and see the world. I’ll 
try.” 

Apparently it was his godmother’s plan al- 
ways to let him try, and try hard, before he 
gained any thing. This day the knots that tied 
up his travelling-cloak were more than usually 
troublesome, and he was a full half-hour before 


76 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


he got out into the open air, and found himself 
floating merrily over the top of the tower. 

Hitherto, in all his journeys, he had never let 
himself go out of sight of home, for the dreary 
building, after all, was home — he remembered 
no other ; but now he felt sick of the very look 
of his tower, with its round smooth walls and 
level battlements. 

“ Off we go ! ” cried he, when the cloak 
stirred itself with a slight, slow motion, as if 
waiting his orders. “ Any where — any where, 
so that I am away from here, and out into the 
world.” 

As he spoke, the cloak, as if seized suddenly 
with a new idea, bounded forward and went 
skimming through the air, faster than the very 
fastest railway train. 

“ Gee-up, gee-up ! ” cried Prince Dolor, in 
great excitement. “This is as good as riding 
a race.” 

And he patted the cloak as if it had been a 
horse — that is, in the way he supposed horses 
ought to be patted — and tossed his head back 
to meet the fresh breeze, and pulled his coat- 
collar up and his hat down, as he felt the wind 
grow keener and colder — colder than any 
thing he had ever known. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


77 


“What does it matter though?” said he. 
“ I’m a boy, and boys ought not to mind any 
thing.” 

Still, for all his good-will, by and by he 
began to shiver exceedingly; also, he had come 
away without his dinner, and he grew fright- 
fully hungry. And to add to every thing, the 
sunshiny day changed into rain, and being high 
up, in the very midst of the clouds, he got 
soaked through and through in a very few 
minutes. 

“ Shall I turn back? ” meditated he. “ Sup- 
pose I say ‘Abracadabra?’” 

Here he stopped, for already the cloak gave 
an obedient lurch, as if it were expecting to be 
sent home immediately. 

“No — I can’t — I can’t go back! I must 
go forward and see the world. But oh ! if I 
had but the shabbiest old rug to shelter me 
from the rain, or the driest morsel of bread and 
cheese, just to keep me from starving! Still, 
I don’t much mind ; I’m a prince, and ought to 
be able to stand any thing. Hold on, cloak, 
we’ll make the best of it.” 

It was a most curious circumstance, but no 
sooner had he said this than he felt stealing 
over his knees something warm and soft; in 


73 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


fact, a most beautiful bearskin, which folded 
itself round him quite naturally, and cuddled 
him up as closely as if he* had been the cub of 
the kind old mother-bear . that once owned it. 
Then feeling in his pocket, which suddenly 
stuck out in a marvellous way, he found, not 
exactly bread and cheese, nor even sandwiches, 
but a packet of the most delicious food he had 
ever tasted. It was not meat, nor pudding, but 
a combination of both, and it served him excel- 
lently for both. He ate his dinner with the 
greatest gusto imaginable, till he grew so thirsty 
he did not know what to do. 

“ Couldn’t I have just one drop of water, if it 
didn’t trouble you too much, kindest of god- 
mothers ? ” 

For he really thought this want was beyond 
her power to supply. All the water which 
supplied Hopeless Tower was pumped up with 
difficulty from a deep artesian well — there 
were such things known in Nomansland — 
which had been made at the foot of it. But 
around, for miles upon miles, the desolate plain 
was perfectly dry. And above it, high in air, 
how could he expect to find a well, or to get 
even a drop of water? 

He forgot one thing — the rain. While he 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


79 


spoke, it came on in another wild' burst, as if 
the clouds had poured themselves out in a pas- 
sion of crying, wetting him certainly, but leav- 
ing behind, in a large glass vessel which he had 
never noticed before, enough water to quench 
the thirst of two or three boys at least. And it 
was so fresh, so pure — as water from the clouds 
always is when it does not catch the soot from 
city chimneys and other defilements — that he 
drank it, every drop, with the greatest delight 
and content. 

Also, as soon as it was empty the rain filled 
it again, so that he was able to wash his face and 
hands and refresh himself exceedingly. Then 
the sun came out and dried him in no time. Af- 
ter that he curled himself up under the bearskin 
rug, and though he determined to be the most 
wide-awake boy imaginable, being so exceed- 
ingly snug and warm and comfortable, Prince 
Dolor condescended to shut his eyes, just for 
one minute. The next minute he was sound 
asleep. 

When he awoke, he found himself floating 
over a country quite unlike anything he had 
ever seen before. 

Yet it was nothing but what most of you 
children see every day and never notice it — a 


8o 


THE LHTLE LAME PRINCE. 


pretty country landscape, like England, Scot- 
land, France, or any other land you choose to 
name. It had no particular features — nothing 
in it grand or lovely — was simply pretty, noth- 
ing more ; yet to Prince Dolor, who had never 
gone beyond his lonely tower and level plain, it 
appeared the most charming sight imaginable. 

Pdrst, there was a river. It came tumbling 
down the hill-side, frothing and foaming, playing 
at hide-and-seek among the rocks, then bursting 
out in noisy fun like a child, to bury itself in 
deep, still pools. Afterward it went steadily on 
for a while, like a good grown-up person, till it 
came to another big rock, where it misbehaved 
itself extremely. It turned into a cataract, and 
went tumbling over and over, after a fashion 
that made the Prince — who had never seen 
water before, except in his bath or his drinking- 
cup — clap his hands with delight. 

“ It is so active, so alive ! I like things active 
and alive ! ” cried he, and watched it shimmer- 
ing and dancing, whirling and leaping, till, after 
a few windings and vagaries, it settled into a 
respectable stream. After that it went along 
deep and quiet, but flowing steadily on, till it 
reached a large lake, into which it slipped, and 
so ended its course. 


THE LFITLE LAME PRINCE. 


8l 



All this the boy saw, either 


with his own naked eye or 
through his gold spec 
tacles. He saw also 
as in a picture, 
beautiful but si- ^ 
lent, many other 
things which struck him with won- 
der, especially a grove of trees. 

Only think, to have lived to his 
age (which he himself did not 
know, as he did not know his own 
birthday) and never to have seen 
trees ! As he floated over these 
oaks, they seemed to him — trunk, 
branches, and leaves — the most 
curious sight imaginable. 

‘I If I could only get nearer, so 
as to touch them,” said 


he, and immediately , 
the obedient cloak . . 

ducked down; 

Prince Dolor made a snatch 
at the topmost twig of 
the tallest tree, and 
caught a ^)unch of ' ' 
leaves in his hand. 



82 


THE LriTLE LAME PRINCE. 


Just a bunch of green leaves — such as we 
see in myriads ; watching them bud, grow, fall, 
and then kicking them along on the ground as 
if they were worth nothing. Yet, how wonder- 
ful they are — every one of them a little differ- 
ent. I don’t suppose you could ever find two 
leaves exactly alike in form, color, and size — 
no more than you could find two faces alike, or 
two characters exactly the same. The plan of 
this world is infinite similarity and yet infinite 
variety. 

Prince Dolor examined his leaves with the 
greatest curiosity — and also a little caterpillar 
that he found walking over one of them. He 
coaxed it to take an additional walk over his 
finger, which it did with the greatest dignity 
and decorum, as if it, Mr. Caterpillar, were 
the most important individual in existence. It 
amused him for a long time ; and when a sud- 
den gust of wind blew it overboard, leaves and 
all, he felt quite disconsolate. 

“ Still there must be many live creatures in 
the world besides caterpillars. I should like to 
see a few of them.” 

The cloak gave a little dip down, as if to say 
“ All right, my Prince,” and bore him across 
the oak forest to a long fertile valley — called 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 83 

in Scotland a strath, and in England a weald, 
but what they call it in the tongue of Nomans- 
land I do not know. It was made up of corn- 
fields, pasture-fields, lanes, hedges, brooks, and 
ponds. Also, in it were what the Prince de- 
sired to see — a quantity of living creatures, 
wild and tame. Cows and horses, lambs and 
sheep, fed in the meadows ; pigs and fowls 
walked about the farm-yards ; and, in lonelier 
places, hares scudded, rabbits burrowed, and 
pheasants and partridges, with many other 
smaller birds, inhabited the fields and woods. 

Through his wonderful spectacles the Prince 
could see every thing ; but, as I said, it was a 
silent picture ; he was too high up to catch any 
thing except a faint murmur, which only 
aroused his anxiety to hear more. 

“ I have as good as two pairs of eyes,” he 
thought. “ I wonder if my godmother would 
give me a second pair of ears.” 

Scarcely had he spoken than he found lying 
on his lap the most curious little parcel, all 
done up in silvery paper. And it contained — 
what do you think? Actually a pair of silver 
ears, which, when he tried them on, fitted so 
exactly over his own that he hardly felt them, 
except for the difference they made in his 
hearing. 


84 the little lame prince. 

There is something which we listen to daily 
and never notice. I mean the sounds of the 
visible world, animate and inanimate. Winds 
blowing, waters flowing, trees stirring, insects 
whirring (dear me ! I am quite unconsciously 
writing rhyme), with the various cries of birds 
and beasts — lowing cattle, bleating sheep, 
grunting pigs, and cackling hens — all the infi- 
nite discords that somehow or other make a 
beautiful harmony. 

We hear this, and are so accustomed to it 
that we think nothing of it; but Prince Dolor, 
who had lived all his days in the dead silence 
of Hopeless Tower, heard it for the first time. 
And oh ! if you had seen his face. 

He listened, listened, as if he could never 
have done listening. And he looked and 
looked, as if he could not gaze enough. Above 
all, the motion of the animals delighted him : 
cows walking, horses galloping, little lambs and 
calves running races across the meadows, were 
such a treat for him to watch — he that was al- 
ways so quiet. But, these creatures having 
four legs, and he only two, the difference did 
not strike him painfully. 

Still, by and by, after the fashion of children 
— and, I fear, of many big people too — he 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 85 

began to want something more than he had, 
something that would be quite fresh and new. 

“ Godmother,” he said, having now begun to 
believe that, whether he saw her or not, he 
could always speak to her with full confidence 
that she would hear him — “Godmother, all 
these creatures I like exceedingly ; but I should 
like better to see a creature like myself. Couldn’t 
you show me just one little boy? ” 

There was a sigh behind him — it might have 
been only the wind — and the cloak remained 
so long balanced motionless in air that he was 
half afraid his godmother had forgotten him, or 
was offended with him for asking too much. 
Suddenly a shrill whistle startled him, even 
through his silver ears, and looking downward, 
he saw start up from behind a bush on a com- 
mon, something — 

Neither a sheep nor a horse nor a cow — 
nothing upon four legs. This creature had 
only two; but they were long, straight, and 
strong. And it had a lithe, active body, and a 
curly head of black hair set upon its shoulders. 
It was a boy, a shepherd-boy, about the Prince’s 
own age — but, oh! so different. 

Not that he was an ugly boy — though his 
face was almost as red as his hands, and his 


86 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE 













^.. v'/6* 



THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


87 


shaggy hair matted like the backs of his own 
sheep. He was rather a nice-looking lad ; and 
seemed so bright and healthy and good-tem- 
pered — “jolly” would be the word, only I am 
not sure if they have such a one in the elegant 
language of Nomansland — that the little Prince 
watched him with great admiration. 

“ Might he come and play with me? I 
would drop down to the ground to him, or fetch 
him up to me here. Oh, how nice it would be 
if I only had a little boy to play with me ! ” 

But the cloak, usually so obedient to his 
wishes, disobeyed him now. There were evi- 
dently some things which his godmother either 
could not or would not give. The cloak hung 
stationary, high in air, never attempting to 
descend. The shepherd-lad evidently took it 
for a large bird, and, shading his eyes, looked 
up at it, making the Prince’s heart beat fast. 

However, nothing ensued. The boy turned 
round, with a long, loud whistle — seemingly 
his usual and only way of expressing his feel- 
ings. He could not make the thing out ex- 
actly — it was a rather mysterious affair, but it 
did not trouble him much — he was not an 
“ examining ” boy. 

Then, stretching himself, for he had been 


88 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


evidently half asleep, he began flopping his 
shoulders with his arms, to wake and warm 
himself ; while his dog, a rough collie, who had 
been guarding the sheep meanwhile, began to 
jump upon him, barking with delight. 

“ Down, Snap, down ! Stop that, or I’ll 
thrash you,” the Prince heard him say; though 
with such a rough, hard voice and queer pro- 
nunciation that it was difficult to make the 
words out. “ Hollo ! Let’s warm ourselves 
by a race.” 

They started off together, boy and dog — 
barking and shouting, till it was doubtful 
which made the most noise or ran the fastest. 
A regular steeple-chase it was : first across 
the level common, greatly disturbing the quiet 
sheep ; and then tearing away across country, 
scrambling through hedges, and leaping ditches, 
and tumbling up and down over ploughed fields. 
They did not seem to have any thing to run 
for — but as if they did it, both of thfem, for the 
mere pleasure of motion. 

And what a pleasure that seemed ! To the 
dog of course, but scarcely less so to the boy. 
How he skimmed along over the ground — his 
cheeks glowing, and his hair flying, and his 
legs — oh, what a pair of legs he had ! 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


89 


Prince Dolor watched him with great intent- 
ness, and in a state of excitement almost equal 
to that of the runner himself — for a while. 
Then the sweet, pale face grew a trifle paler, 
the lips began to quiver, and the eyes to fill. 

“ How nice it must be to run like that! ” he 
said softly, thinking that never — no, never in 
this world — would he be able to do the same. 

Now he understood what his godmother had 
meant when she gave him his travelling-cloak, 
and why he had heard that sigh — he was sure 
it was hers — when he had asked to see “just 
one little boy.” 

“ I think I had rather not look at him again,” 
said the poor little Prince, drawing himself 
back into the centre of his cloak, and resuming, 
his favorite posture, sitting like a Turk, with his 
arms wrapped round his feeble, useless legs. 

“ You’re no good to me,” he said, patting 
them mournfully. “ You never will be any 
good to me. I wonder why I had you at all ; 

I wonder why I was born at all, since I was 
not to grow up like other little boys. W/ij/ 
not?” 

A question so strange, so sad, yet so often 
occurring in some form or other in this world — 
as you will find, my children, when you arc 


90 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


older — that even if he had put it to his mother 
she could only have answered it, as we have to 
answer many as difficult things, by simply say- 
ing, “ I don’t know.” There is much that we do 
not know, and can not understand — we big 
folks no more than you little ones. We have 
to accept it all just as you have to accept any 
thing which your parents may tell you, even 
though you don’t as yet see the reason of it. 
You may some time, if you do exactly as they 
tell you, and are content to wait. 

Prince Dolor sat a good while thus, or it 
appeared to him a good while, so many thoughts 
came and went through his poor young mind — 
thoughts of great bitterness, which, little 
though he was, seemed to make him grow 
years older in a few minutes. 

Then he fancied the cloak began to rock 
gently to and fro, with a soothing kind of 
motion, as if he were in somebody’s arms : some- 
body who did not speak, but loved him and 
comforted him without need of words ; not by 
deceiving him with false encouragement or 
hope, but by making him see the plain, hard 
truth in all its hardness, and thus letting him 
quietly face it, till it grew softened down, and 
did not seem nearly so dreadful after all. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


91 


Through the dreary silence and blankness, 
for he had placed himself so that he could see 
nothing but the sky, and had taken off his sil- 
ver ears as well as his gold spectacles — what 
was the use of either when he had no legs with 
which to walk or run? — up from below there 
rose a delicious sound. 

You have heard it hundreds of times, my chil- 
dren, and so have I. When I was a child I 
thought there was nothing so sweet; and I think 
so still. It was just the song of a skylark, 
mounting higher and higher from the ground, 
till it came so close that Prince Dolor could dis- 
tinguish his quivering wings and tiny body, al- 
most too tiny to contain such a gush of music. 

“ Oh, you beautiful, beautiful bird ! cried 
he; “I should dearly like to take you in and 
cuddle you. That is, if I could — if I dared.” 

But he hesitated. The little brown creature 
with its loud heavenly voice almost made him 
afraid. Nevertheless, it also made him happy; 
and he watched and listened — so absorbed 
that he forgot all regret and pain, forgot every 
thing in the world except the little lark. 

It soared and soared, and he was just wonder- 
ing if it would soar out of sight, and what in the 
world he should do when it was gone, when it 


92 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


suddenly closed its wings, as larks do when they 
mean to drop to the ground. But, instead of 
dropping to the ground, it dropped right into 
the little boy’s breast. 

What felicity ! If it would only stay ! A tiny, 
soft thing to fondle and kiss, to sing to him all 
day long, and be his playfellow and companion, 
tame and tender, while to the rest of the world 
it was a wild bird of the air. What a pride, 
what a delight ! To have something that no- 
body else had — ^something all his own. As the 
travelling-cloak travelled on, he little heeded 
where, and the lark still stayed, nestled down 
in his bosom, hopped from his hand to his 
shoulder, and ki.ssed him with its dainty beak, 
as if it loved him. Prince Dolor forgot all his 
grief, and was entirely happy. 

But when he got in sight of Hopeless Tower 
a painful thought struck him. 

“ My pretty bird, what am I to do with you ? 
If I take you into my room and shut you up 
there, you, a wild skylark of the air, what will 
become of you ? I am used to this, but you are 
not. You will be so miserable ; and suppose 
my nurse should find you — she who can’t bear 
the sound of singing? Besides, I remember 
her once telling me that the nicest thing she 
ever ate in her life was lark pie ! ” 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


93 


The little boy shivered all over at the 
thought. And, though the merry lark immedi- 
ately broke into the loudest carol, as if saying 
derisively that he defied anybody to eat him^ 
still Prince Dolor was very uneasy. In another 
minute he had made up his mind. 

“ No, my bird, nothing so dreadful shall hap- 
pen to you if I can help it; I would rather do 
without you altogether. Yes, I’ll try. Fly 
away, my darling, my beautiful ! * Good-by, my 
merry, merry bird.” 

Opening his two caressing hands, in which, 
as if for protection, he had folded it, he let the 
lark go. It lingered a minute, perching on the 
rim of the cloak, and looking at him with eyes 
of almost human tenderness ; then away it flew, 
far up into the blue sky. It was only a bird. 

But some time after, when Prince Dolor had 
eaten his supper — somewhat drearily, except 
for the thought that he could not possibly sup 
off lark pie now — and gone quietly to bed, the 
old familiar little bed, where he was accustomed 
to sleep, or lie awake contentedly thinking — 
suddenly he heard outside the window a little faint 
carol — faint but cheerful — cheerful, even 
though it was the middle of the night. 

The dear little lark ! it had not flown away 


94 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


after all. And it was truly the most extraordinary 
bird, for, unlike ordinary larks, it kept hovering 
about the tower in the silence and darkness of 
the night, outside the window or over the roof. 
Whenever he listened for a moment, he heard 
it singing still. 

He went to sleep as happy as a king. 


CHAPTER VII. 


H appy as a king.” How far kings are 
happy I can not say, no more than 
could Prince Dolor, though he had 
once been a king himself. But he remembered 
nothing about it, and there was nobody to tell 
him, except his nurse, who had been forbidden 
upon pain of death to let him know any thing 
about his dead parents, or the king his uncle, 
or indeed any part of his own history. 

Sometimes he speculated about himself, 
whether he had had a father and mother as 
other little boys had, what they had been like, 
and why he had never seen them. But, know- 
ing nothing about them, he did not miss them 
— only once or twice, reading pretty stories 
about little children and their mothers, who 
helped them when they were in difficulty, and 
comforted them when they were sick, he, feel- 
ing ill and dull and lonely, wondered what had 
become of his mother, and why she never came 
to see him. 

Then, in his history lessons, of course he read 
about kings and princes, and the governments 


96 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


of different countries, and the events that hap- 
pened there. And though he but faintly took 
in all this, still he did take it in a little, and 
worried his young brain about it, and perplexed 
his nurse with questions, to which she returned 
sharp and mysterious answers, which only set 
him thinking the more. 

He had plenty of time for thinking. After 
his last journey in the travelling-cloak, the jour- 
ney which had given him so much pain, his 
desire to see the world had somehow faded 
away. He contented himself with reading his 
books, and looking out of the tower windows, 
and listening to his beloved little lark, which 
had come home with him that day, and never 
left him again. 

True, it kept out of the way; and though his 
nurse sometimes dimly heard it, and said “ What 
is that horrid noise outside? ” she never got the 
faintest chance of making it into a lark pie. 
Prince Dolor had his pet all to himself, and 
though he seldom saw it, he knew it was near 
him, and he caught continually, at odd hours of 
the day, and even in the night, fragments of its 
delicious song. 

All during the winter — so far as there ever 
was any difference between summer and winter 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


97 


in Hopeless Tower — the little bird cheered and 
amused him. He scarcely needed any thing 
more — not even his travelling-cloak, which lay 
bundled up unnoticed in a corner, tied up in its 
innumerable knots. Nor did his godmother 
come near him. It seemed as if she had given 
these treasures and left him alone — to use them 
or lose them, apply them or misapply them, 
according to his own choice. That is all we can 
do with children when they grow into big chil- 
dren old enough to distinguish between right 
and wrong, and too old to be forced to do 
either. 

Prince Dolor was now quite a big boy. Not 
tall — alas! he never could be that, with his 
poor little shrunken legs, which were of no use, 
only an encumbrance. But he was stout and 
strong, with great sturdy shoulders, and muscu- 
lar arms, upon which he could swing himself 
about almost like a monkey. As if in compen- 
sation for his useless lower limbs. Nature had 
given to these extra strength and activity. His 
face, too, was very handsome ; thinner, firmer, 
more manly ; but still the sweet face of his 
childhood — his mothers own face. 

How his mother would have liked to look at 
him! Perhaps she did — who knows? 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


98 


The boy was not a stupid boy either. He 
could learn almost any thing he chose — and he 
did choose, which was more than half the bat- 
tle. He never gave up his lessons till he had 
learned them all — never thought it a punish- 
ment that he had to work at them, and that 
they cost him a deal of trouble sometimes. 

“But,” thought he, “ men work, and it must 
be so grand to be a man — a prince too ; and I 
fancy princes work harder than any body — ex- 
cept kings. The princes I read about generally 
turn into kings. I wonder ” — the boy was al- 
ways wondering — “Nurse” — and one day he 
startled her with a sudden question — “ tell me 
— shall I ever be a king?” 

The woman stood, perplexed beyond expres- 
sion. So long a time had passed by since her 
crime — if it were a crime — and her sentence, 
that she now seldom thought of either. Even 
her punishment — to be shut up for life in 
Hopeless Tower — she had gradually got used 
to. Used also to the little lame Prince, her 
charge — whom at first she had hated, though 
she carefully did- every thing to keep him alive, 
since upon him her own life hung. But latterly 
she had ceased to hate him, and, in a sort of 
way, almost loved him — at least, enough to be 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


99 


sorry for him — an innocent child, imprisoned 
here till he grew into an old man, and became 
a dull, worn-out creature like herself. Some- 
times, watching him, she felt more sorry for him 
than even for herself; and then, seeing she 
looked a less miserable and ugly woman, he did 
not shrink from her as usual. 

He did not now. “ Nurse — dear nurse,” said 
he, “I don’t mean to vex you, but tell me — 
what is a king? shall I ever be one? ” 

When she began to think less of herself and 
more of the child, the woman’s courage in- 
creased. The idea came to her — what harm 
would it be, even if he did know his own his- 
tory? Perhaps he ought to know it — for there 
had been various ups and downs, usurpations, 
revolutions, and restorations in Nomansland, as 
in most other countries. Something might hap- 
pen — who could tell? Changes might occur. 
Possibly a crown would even yet be set upon 
those pretty, fair curls — which she began to 
think prettier than ever when she saw the im- 
aginary coronet upon them. 

She sat down, considering whether her oath, 
never to “ say a word” to Prince Dolor about 
himself, would be broken if she were to take a 
pencil and write what was to be told. A mere 


lOO 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


quibble — a mean, miserable quibble. But then 
she was a miserable woman, more to be pitied 
than scorned. 

After long doubt, and with great trepidation, 
she put her finger to her lips, and taking the 
Prince’s slate — with the sponge tied to it, ready 
to rub out the writing in a minute — she 
wrote — 

“You are a king.” 

Prince' Dolor started. His face grew pale, 
and then flushed all over ; his eyes glistened ; 
he held himself erect. Lame as he was, any 
body could see he was born to be a king. 

“ Hush ! ” said his nurse, as he was beginning 
to speak. And then, terribly frightened all the 
while — people who have done wrong always 
are frightened — she wrote down in a few hur- 
ried sentences his history. How his parents 
had died — his uncle had usurped his throne, 
and sent him to end his days in this lonely 
tower. 

“ I, too,” added she, bursting into tears. 
“ Unless, indeed, you could get out into the 
world, and fight for your rights like a man. 
And fight for me also, my Prince, that I may 
not die in this desolate place.” 

“ Poor old nurse ! ” said the boy, compas- 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. lOI 

sionately. For somehow, boy as he was, when 
he heard he was born to be a king, he felt like 
a man — like a king — who could afford to be 
tender because he was strong. 

He scarcely slept that night, and even though 
he heard his little lark singing in the sunrise, he 
barely listened to it. Things more serious and 
important had taken possession of his mind. 

“ Suppose,” thought he, “ I were to do as she 
says and go out into the world, no matter how 
it hurts me — the world of people, active peo- 
ple, as active as that boy I saw. They might 
only laugh at me — poor helpless creature that 
I am ; but still I might show them I could do 
something. At any rate, I might go and see if 
there were any thing for me to do. Godmother, 
help me ! ” 

It was so long since he had asked her help 
that he was hardly surprised when he got no 
answer — only the little lark outside the window 
sang louder and louder, and the sun rose, flood- 
ing the room with light. 

Prince Dolor sprang out of bed, and began 
dressing himself, which was hard work, for he 
was not used to it — he had always been ac- 
customed to depend upon his nurse for every 
thing. 


02 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


“ But I must now learn to be independent,” 
thought he. “ Fancy a king being dressed like 
a baby ! ” 

So he did the best he could - — awkwardly but 
cheerily — and then he leaped to the corner 
where lay his travelling-cloak, untied it as be- 
fore, and watched it unrolling itself — which it 
did rapidly, with a hearty good-will, as if quite 
tired of idleness. So was Prince Dolor — or 
felt as if he were. He jumped into the middle 
of it, said his charm, and was out through the 
sky-light immediately. 

“ Good-by, pretty lark ! ” he shouted, as he 
passed it on the wing, still warbling its carol to 
the newly risen sun. “ You have been my 
pleasure, my delight ; now I must go and 
work. Sing to old nurse till I come back 
again. Perhaps she’ll hear you — perhaps she 
won’t — but it will do her good all the same. 
Good-by ! ” 

But, as the cloak hung irresolute in air, he 
suddenly remembered that he had not deter- 
mined where to go — indeed, he did not know, 
and there was nobody to tell him. 

“ Godmother,” he cried, in much perplexity, 
“ypu know what I want — at least, I hope you 
do, for I hardly do myself — take me where I 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


103 


ought to go ; show me whatever I ought to 
see — never mind what I like to see,” as a sud- 
den idea came into his mind that he might 
see many painful and disagreeable things. But 
this journey was not for pleasure — as before. 
He was not a baby now, to do nothing but 
play — big boys do not always play. Nor men 
neither — they work. Thus much Prince Dolor 
knew — though very little more. And as the 
cloak started off, travelling faster than he had 
ever known it to do — through sky-land and 
cloud-land, o'Ver freezing mountain-tops, and 
desolate stretches of forest, and smiling culti- 
vated plains, and great lakes that seemed to 
him almost as shoreless as the sea — he was 
often rather frightened. But he crouched 
down, silent and quiet; what was the use of 
making a fuss? and, wrapping himself up in his 
bear-skin, waited for what was to happen. 

After some time he heard a murmur in the 
distance, increasing more and more till it grew 
like the hum of a gigantic hive of bees. And, 
stretching his chin over the rim of his cloak. 
Prince Dolor saw — far, far below him, yet, 
with his gold spectacles and silver ears on, he 
could distinctly hear and see — What? 

Most of us have some time or other visited a 


104 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


great metropolis — have wandered through its 
net-work of streets — lost ourselves in its 
crowds of people — looked up at its tall rows 
of houses, its grand public buildings, churches, 
and squares. Also, perhaps, we have peeped 
into its miserable little back alleys, where 
dirty children play in gutters all day and half 
the night — or where men reel tipsy and women 
fight — where even young boys go about pick- 
ing pockets, with nobody to tell them it is 
wrong except the policeman, and he simply 
takes them off to prison. And atl this wretch- 
edness is close behind the grandeur — like the 
two sides of the leaf of a book. 

An awful sight is a large city, seen any how, 
from any where. But, suppose you were to 
see it from the upper air, where, with your 
eyes and ears open, you could take in every 
thing at once? What would it look like? How 
would you feel about it? I hardly know my- 
self. Do you ? 

Prince Dolor had need to be a king — that 
is, a boy with a kingly nature — to be able to 
stand such a sight without being utterly over- 
come. But he was very much bewildered — 
as bewildered as a blind person who is suddenly 
made to see. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 105 

He gazed down on the city below him, and 
then put his hand over his eyes. 

“ I can’t bear to look at it, it is so beautiful 
— so dreadful. And I don’t understand it — 
not one bit. There is nobody to tell me about 
it. I wish I had somebody to speak to.” 

“Do you? Then pray speak to me. I was 
always considered good at conversation.” 

The voice that squeaked out this reply was an 
excellent imitation of the human one, though 
it came only from a birdi No lark this time, 
however, but a great black and white creature 
that flew into the cloak, and began walking 
round and round on the edge of it with a dig- 
nified stride, one foot before the other, like 
any unfeathered biped you could name. 

“ I haven’t the honor of your acquaintance, 
sir,” said the boy politely. 

“ Ma’am, if you please. I am a mother 
bird, and my narri'e is Mag, and I shall be 
happy to tell you every thing you want to know. 
For I know a great deal; and I enjoy talking. 
My family is of great antiquity ; we have built 
in this palace for hundreds — that is to say, 
dozens of years. I am intimately acquainted 
with the King, the Queen, and the little princes 
and princesses — also the maids of honor, and 


o6 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


all the inhabitants of the city. I talk a good 
deal, but I always talk sense, and I dare say I 
should be exceedingly useful to a poor little 
ignorant boy like you.” 

“ I am a prince,” said the other gently. 

“ All right. And I am a magpie. You will 
find me a most respectable bird.” 

“ I have no doubt of it,” was the polite answer 

— though he thought in his own mind that Mag 
must have a very good opinion of herself. But 
she was a lady and a stranger, so of course he 
was civil to her. 

She settled herself at his elbow, and began 
to chatter away, pointing out with one skinny 
claw, while she balanced herself on the other, 
every object of interest — evidently believing, 
as no doubt all its inhabitants did, that there was 
no capital in the world like the great metropo- 
lis of Nomansland. 

I have not seen it, and therefore can not de- 
scribe it, so we will just take it upon trust, and 
suppose it to be, like every other fine city, the 
finest city that ever was built. “ Mag ” said so 

— and of course she knew. 

Nevertheless, there were a few things in it 
which surprised Prince Dolor — and, as he had 
said, he could not understand them all. One 
half the people seemed so happy and busy — 


THE IJTTLE LAME PRINCE. lO/ 

hurrying up and down the full streets, or driv- 
ing lazily along the parks in their grand car- 
riages, while the other half were so wretched 
and miserable. 

“ Can’t the world be made a little more 
level ? I would try to do it if I were the king.” 

“ But you’re not the king: only a little goose 
of a boy,” returned the magpie loftily. “ And 
I’m here not to explain things, only to show 
them. Shall I show you the royal palace ? ” 

It was a magnificent palace. It had terraces 
and gardens, battlements and towers. It ex- 
tended over acres of ground, and had in it 
rooms enough to accommodate half the city. Its 
windows looked in all directions, but none of 
them had any particular view — except a small 
one, high up toward the roof, which looked 
on to the Beautiful Mountains. But since the 
Queen died there it had been closed, boarded 
up, indeed, the magpie said. It was so little 
and inconvenient that nobody cared to live in 
it. Besides, the lower apartments, which had 
no view, were magnificent — worthy of being 
inhabited by his Majesty the King. 

“ I should like to see the King,” said Prince 
Dolor. 

But what followed was so important that I 
must take another chapter to tell it in. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


W HAT, I wonder, would be most people’s 
idea of a king? What ’was Prince 
Dolor’s? 

Perhaps a very splendid personage, with a 
crown on his head and a sceptre in his hand, 
sitting on a throne and judging the people. 
Always doing right, and never wrong — “The 
king can do no wrong” was a law laid down in 
olden times. Never cross or tired or sick or 
suffering; perfectly handsome and well-dressed, 
calm and good-tempered, ready to see and hear 
every body, and discourteous to nobody ; all 
things always going well with him, and nothing 
unpleasant ever happening. 

This, probably, was what Prince Dolor ex- 
pected to see. And what did he see? But I 
must tell you how he saw it. 

“Ah,” said the magpie, “no levee to-day. 
The King is ill, though his Majesty does not 
wish it to be generally known — it would be so 
very inconvenient. He can’t see you, but per- 
haps you might like to go and take a look at 
him in away I often do? It is so very amusing.” 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 109 

Amusing, indeed ! 

The Prince was just now too much excited to 
talk much. Was he not going to see the King 
his uncle, who had succeeded his father and 
dethroned himself; had stepped into all the 
pleasant things that he. Prince Dolor, ought to 
have had, and shut him up in a desolate tower? 
What was he like, this great, bad, clever man? 
Had 'he got all the things he wanted, which an- 
other ought to have had? And did he enjoy 
them? 

“ Nobody knows,” answered the magpie, just 
as if she had been sitting inside the Prince’s 
heart, instead of on the top of his shoulder. 
“ He is a king, and that’s enough. For the rest 
nobody knows.” 

As she spoke, Mag flew down on to the pal- 
ace roof, where the cloak had rested, settling 
down between the great stacks of chimneys as 
comfortably as if on the ground. She pecked 
at the tiles with her beak — truly she was a 
wonderful bird — and immediately a little hole 
opened, a sort of door, through which could 
be seen distinctly the chamber below. 

“ Now look in, my Prince. Make haste, for 
I must soon shut it up again.” 

But the boy hesitated. “Isn’t it rude? — 
won’t they think us intruding? ” 


no THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

“ Oh dear no ! there’s a hole like this in every 
palace ; dozens of holes, indeed. Every body 
knows it, but nobody speaks of it. Intrusion ! 
Why, though the royal family are supposed to 
live shut up behind stone walls ever so thick, 
all the world knows that they live in a glass 
house where every body can see them and 
throw a stone at them. Now, pop down on 
your knees, and take a peep at his Majesty ! ” 

His Majesty! 

The Prince gazed eagerly down into a large 
room, the largest room he had ever beheld, 
with furniture and hangings grander than any 
thing he could have ever imagined. A stray 
sunbeam, coming through a crevice of the 
darkened windows, struck across the carpet, and 
it was the loveliest carpet ever woven — just like 
a bed of flowers to walk over ; only nobody 
walked over it, the room being perfectly empty 
and silent. 

“Where is the King?” asked the puzzled 
boy. 

“ There,” said Mag, pointing with one 
wrinkled claw to a magnificent bed, large 
enough to contain six people. In the centre of 
it, just visible under the silken counterpane — 
quite straight and still — with its head on the 


rilE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


Ill 


lace pillow, lay a small figure, something like 
wax-work, fast asleep — very fast asleep ! 
There was a number of sparkling rings on the 
tiny yellow hands, that were curled a little, 
helplessly, like a baby’s, outside the coverlet; 
the eyes were shut, the nose looked sharp and 
thin, and the long gray beard hid the mouth 
and lay over the breast. A sight not ugly nor 
frightening, only solemn and quiet. And so 
very silent — two little flies buzzing about the 
curtains of the bed being the only audible 
sound. * 

“ Is that the King? ” whispered Prince Dolor. 

“ Yes,” replied the bird. 

He had been angry — furiously angry — ever 
since he knew how his uncle had taken the 
crown, and sent him, a poor little helpless 
child, to be shut up for life, just as if he had 
been dead. Many times the boy had felt as if, 
king as he was, he should like to strike him, 
this great, strong, wicked man. 

Why, you might as well have struck a baby ! 
How helpless he lay, with his eyes shut, and his 
idle hands folded : they had no more work to 
do, bad or good. 

“What is the matter with him?” asked the 
Prince again. 


I 12 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


“He is dead,” said the Magpie, with a croak. 

No, there was not the least use in being an- 
gry with him now. On the contrary, the Prince 
felt almost sorry for him, except that he looked 
so peaceful, with all his cares at rest. And this 
was being dead? So even kings died? 

“ Well, well, he hadn’t an easy life, folk say, 
for all his grandeur. Perhaps he is glad it is 
over. Good-by, your Majesty.” 

With another cheerful tap of her beak. Mis 
tress Mag shut down the little door in the tiles, 
and Prince Dolor’s first and last sight of his 
uncle was ended. 

He sat in the centre of his travelling-cloak, 
silent and thoughtful. 

“ What shall we do now? ” said the Magpie. 
“ There’s nothing much more to be done with 
his Majesty, except a fine funeral, which I shall 
certainly go and see. All the world will. He 
interested the world exceedingly when he was 
alive, and he ought to do it now he’s dead — 
just once more. And since he can’t hear me, I 
may as well say that, on the whole, his Majesty 
is much better dead than alive — if we can only 
get somebody in his place. There’ll be such a 
row in the city presently. Suppose we float up 
again, and see it all — at a safe distance though. 
It will be such fun.” 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


II3 


“ What will be fun? ” 

“A revolution.’’ 

Whether any body except a magpie would 
have called it “ fun ” I don’t know, but it cer- 
tainly was a remarkable scene. 

As soon as the cathedral bell began to toll 
and the minute guns to fire, announcing to the 
kingdom that it was without a king, the people 
gathered in crowds, stopping at street corners 
to talk together. The murmur now and then 
rose into a shout, and the shout into a roar. 
When Prince Dolor, quietly floating in upper 
air, caught the sound of their different and op- 
posite cries, it seemed to him as if the whole 
city had gone mad together. 

“^Long live the King! ” “ The King is dead 
— down with the King I ” “ Down with the 

crown, and the King too I ” “ Hurrah for the 

Republic ! ” “ Hurrah for no government at 

all I ” 

Such were the shouts which travelled up to 
the travelling-cloak. And then began — oh, 
what a scene ! 

When you children are grown men and wo- 
men — or before — you will hear and read in 
books about what are called revolutions — ear- 
nestly I trust that neither I nor you may ever 
see one. But they have happened, and may 


1 14 the little lame prince. 

happen again, in other countries beside Nomans- 
land, when wicked kings have helped to make 
their people wicked too, or out of an unright- 
eous nation have sprung rulers equally bad ; 
or, without either of these causes, when a rest- 
less country has fancied any change better than 
no change at all. 

For me, I don’t like changes, unless pretty 
sure that they are for good. And how good 
can come out of absolute evil — the horrible 
evil that went on this night under Prince Do- 
lor’s very eyes — soldiers shooting people down 
by hundreds in the streets, scaffolds erected, 
and heads dropping off — houses burned, and 
women and children murdered — this is more 
than I can understand. 

But all these things you will find in history, 
my children, and must by and by judge for 
yourselves the right and wrong of them, as far 
as any body ever can judge. 

Prince Dolor saw it all. Things happened so 
fast one after another that they quite confused 
his faculties. 

“Oh, let me go home,” he cried at last, stop- 
ping his ears and shutting his eyes ; “ only let 
me go home ! ” for even his lonely tower 
seemed home, and its dreariness and silence 
absolute paradise after all this. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. II5 

Good-by, then,’’ said the Magpie, flapping 
her wings. She had been chatting incessantly all 
day and all night, for it was actually thus long 
that Prince Dolor had been hovering over the 
city, neither eating nor sleeping, with all these 
terrible things happening under his very eyes. 
“You’ve had enough, I suppose, of seeing the 
world ? ” 



“Oh, I have — I have ! ” cried the Prince, 
with a shudder. 


“ That is, till next time. All right, your 
Royal Highness. You don’t know me, but I 
know you. We may meet again some time.” 
She looked at him with her clear, piercing 


6 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


eyes, sharp enough to see through every thing, 
and it seemed as if they changed from bird’s 
eyes to human eyes — the very eyes of his 
godmother, whom he had not seen for ever so 
long. But the minute afterward she became 
only a bird, and with a screech and a chatter 
spread her wings and flew away. 

Prince Dolor fell into a kind of swoon, of 
utter misery, bewilderment, and exhaustion, 
and when he awoke he found himself in his 
own room — alone and quiet — with the dawn 
just breaking, and the long rim of yellow light 
in the horizon glimmering through the window- 
panes. 


CHAPTER IX. 


W HEN Prince Dolor sat up in bed, trying 
to remember where he was, whither 
he had been, and what he had seen 
the day before, he perceived that his room was 
empty. 

Generally his nurse rather worried him by 
breaking his slumbers, coming in and “ setting 
things to rights,” as she called it. Now the 
dust lay thick upon chairs and tables ; there 
was no harsh voice heard to scold him for not 
getting up immediately — which, I am sorry 
to say, this boy did not always do. For he so 
enjoyed lying still, and thinking lazily about 
every thing or nothing, that if he had not tried 
hard against it, he would certainly have become 
like those celebrated 

“ Two little men 

Who lay iti their bed till the clock struck ten.” 

It was striking ten now, and still no nurse was 
to be seen. He was rather relieved at first, for 
he felt so tired ; and besides, when he stretched 
out his arm, he found to his dismay that he 
had gone to bed in his clothes, 


“7 


I 1 8 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

Very uncomfortable he felt, of course ; and 
just a little frightened. Especially when he be- 
gan to call and call again, but nobody answered. 
Often he used to think how nice it would be 
to get rid of his nurse and live in this tower all 
by himself — like a sort of monarch, able to 
do every thing he liked, and leave undone all 
that he did not want to do ; but now that this 
seemed really to have happened, he did not 
like it at all. 

“ Nurse — dear nurse — please come back ! ” 
he called out. “ Come back, and I will be the 
best boy in all the land.” 

And when she did not come back, and noth- 
ing but silence answered his lamentable call, 
he very nearly began to cry. 

“ This won’t do,” he said at last, dashing the 
tears from his eyes. “ It’s just like a baby, and 
I’m a big boy — shall be a man some day. 
What has happened, I wonder? I’ll go and see.” 

He sprang out of bed — not to his feet, 
alas ! but to his poor little weak knees, and 
crawled on them from room to room. All the 
four chambers were deserted — not forlorn or 
untidy, for everything seemed to have been 
done for his comfort - — the breakfast and din- 
ner things were laid, the food spread in order. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. I 1 9 

He might live “ like a prince,” as the proverb 
is, for several days. But the place was entirely 
forsaken — there was evidently not a creature 
but himself in the solitary tower. 

A great fear came upon the poor boy. 
Lonely as his life had been, he had never 
known what it was to be absolutely alone. A 
kind of despair seized him — no violent anger 
or terror, but a sort of patient desolation. 

“What in the world am I to do?” thought 
he, and sat down in the middle of the floor, 
half inclined to believe that it would be better 
to give up entirely, lay himself down, and die. 

This feeling, however, did not last long, for 
he was young and strong, and, I said before, by 
nature a very courageous boy. There came 
into his head, somehow or other, a proverb that 
his nurse had taught him — the people of 
Nomansland were very fond of proverbs — 

“ For every evil under the sun . 

There is a remedy, or there’s none ; 

If there is one, try to find it — 

If there isn’t, never mind it.” 

‘‘ I wonder is there a remedy now, and could 
I find it?” cried the Prince, jumping up and 
looking out of the window. 

No help there. He only saw the broad, 


120 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


bleak, sunshiny plain — that is, at first. But 
by and by, in the circle of mud that surrounded 
the base of the tower, he perceived distinctly 
the marks of a horse’s feet, and just in the 
spot where the deaf-mute was accustomed to 
tie up his great black charger, while he himself 
ascended, there lay the remains of a burKlle of 
hay and a feed of corn. 

“ Yes, that’s it. He has come and gone, tak- 
ing nurse away with him. Poor nurse ! how 
glad she would be to go ! ” 

That was Prince Dolor’s first thought. His 
second — wasn’t it natural ? — was a passionate 
indignation at her cruelty — at the cruelty of 
all the world toward him, a poor little helpless 
boy. Then he determined, forsaken as he was, 
to try and hold on to the last, and not to die as 
long as he could possibly help it. 

Anyhow, it would be easier to die here than 
out in the world, among the terrible doings 
which he had just beheld — from the midst of 
which, it suddenly struck him, the deaf-mute 
had come, contriving somehow to make the 
nurse understand that the king was dead, and 
she need have no fear in going back to the 
capital, where there was a grand revolution, and 
every thing turned upside down. So, of course, 
she had gone. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


I2I 


“I hope she’ll enjoy it, miserable woman — 
if they don’t cut off her head too.” 

And then a kind of remorse smote him for 
feeling so bitterly toward her, after all the years 
she had taken care of him — grudgingly, per- 
haps, and coldly ; still she had taken care of 
him,* and that even to the last: for, as I have 
said, all his four rooms were as tidy as possible, 
and his meals laid out, that he might have no 
more trouble than could be helped. 

“ Possibly she did not mean to be cruel. I 
won’t judge her,” said he. And afterward he 
was very glad that he had so determined. 

For the second time he tried to dress himself, 
and then to do every thing he could for himself 

— even to sweeping up the hearth and putting 
on more coals. “ It’s a funny thing for a prince 
to have to do,” said he, laughing. “ But my 
godmother once said princes need never mind 
doing any thing.” 

And then he thought a little of his godmother. 
Not of summoning her, or asking her to help 
him — she had evidently left him to help him- 
self, and he was determined to try his best to 
do it, being a very proud and independent boy 

— but he remembered her tenderly and regret- 
fully, as if even she had been a little hard upon 


122 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


him — poor, forlorn boy that he was. But he 
seemed to have seen and learned so much 
within the last few days that he scarcely felt 
like a boy, but a man — until he went to bed at 
night. 

When I was a child, I used often to think 
how nice it would be to live in a little house all 
by my own self — a house built high up in a 
tree, or far away in a forest, or half-way up a 
hill-side — so deliciously alone and independent. 
Not a lesson to learn — but no! I always liked 
learning my lessons. Anyhow, to choose the 
lessons I liked best, to have as many books to 
read and dolls to play with as ever I wanted : 
above all, to be free and at rest, with nobody to 
tease or trouble or scold me, would be charm- 
ing. For I was a lonely little thing, who liked 
quietness — as many children do; which other 
children, and sometimes grown-up people even, 
cannot understand. And so I can understand 
Prince Dolor. 

After his first despair, he was not merely 
comfortable, but actually happy in his solitude, 
doing every thing for himself, and enjoying every 
thing by himself — until bed-time. 

Then he did not like it at all. No more, I 
suppose, than other children would have liked 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


23 


my imaginary house in a tree, when they had 
had sufficient of their own company. 

But the Prince had to bear it — and he did 
bear it, like a prince — for fully five days. All 
that time he got up in the morning and went to 
bed at night without having spoken to a creature, 
or, indeed, heard a single sound. For even his 
little lark was silent ; and as for his travelling- 
cloak, either he never thought about it, or else 
it had been spirited away — for he made no use 
of it, nor attempted to do so. 

A very strange existence it was, those five 
lonely days. He never entirely forgot it. It 
threw him back upon himself, and into himself 
— in a way that all of us have to learn when 
we grow up, and are the better for it; but it is 
somewhat hard learning. 

On the sixth day Prince Dolor had a strange 
composure in his look, but he was very grave 
and thin and white. He had nearly come to 
the end of his provisions — and what was to 
happen next? Get out of the tower he could 
not: the ladder the deaf-mute used was al- 
ways carried away again ; and if it had not 
been, how could the poor boy have used it? 
And even if he slung or flung himself down, 
and by miraculous chance came alive to the 
foot of the tower, how could he run away? 


124 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


Fate had been very hard to him, or so it 
seemed. 

He made up his mind to die. Not that he 
wished to die ; on the contrary, there was a 
great deal that he wished to live to do ; but if 
he must die, he must. Dying did not seem so 
very dreadful ; not even to lie quiet like his 
uncle, whom he had entirely forgiven now, arid 
neither be miserable nor naughty any more, 
and escape all these horrible things that he had 
seen going on outside the palace, in that awful 
place which was called “ the world.” 

“ It’s a great deal nicer here,” said the poor 
little Prince, and collected all his pretty things 
round him : his favorite pictures, which he 
thought he should like to have near him when 
he died ; his books and toys — no, he had 
■greased to care for toys now ; he only liked them 
because he had done so as a child. And there 
he sat very calm and patient, like a king in his 
castle, waiting for the end. 

“ Still, I wish I had done something first — 
something worth doing, that somebody might 
remember me by,” thought he. Suppose I 
had grown a man, and had had work to do, and 
people to care for, and was so useful and busy 
that they liked me, and perhaps even forgot I 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 12^ 

was lame? Then it would have been nice to 
live, I think.” 

A tear came into the little fellow’s eyes, and 
he listened intently through the dead silence 
for some hopeful sound. 

Was there one? — was it his little lark, whom 
he had almost forgotten? No, nothing half so 
sweet. But it really was something — something 
which came nearer and nearer, so that there was 
no mistaking it. It was the sound of a trumpet, 
one of the great silver trumpets so admired in 
Nomansland. Not pleasant music, but very 
bold, grand, and inspiring. 

As he listened to it the boy seemed to recall 
many things which had slipped his memory for 
years, and to nerve himself for whatever might 
be going to happen. 

What had happened was this. 4 ' 

The poor condemned woman had not been 
such a wicked woman after all. Perhaps her 
courage was not wholly disinterested, but she 
had done a very heroic thing. As soon as she 
heard of the death and burial of the King, and 
of the changes that were taking place in the 
country, a daring idea came into her head — 
to set upon the throne of Nomansland its right- 
ful heir. Thereupon she persuaded the deaf- 


126 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


mute to take her away with him, and they gal- 
loped like the wind from city to city, spreading 
every where the news that Prince Dolor’s death 
and burial had been an invention concocted by 
his wicked uncle — that he was alive and well, 
and the noblest young Prince that ever was born. 

It was a bold stroke, but it succeeded. The 
country, weary perhaps of the late King’s harsh 
rule, and yet glad to save itself from the horrors 
of the last few days, and the still further hor- 
rors of no rule at all, and having no particular 
interest in the other young princes, jumped at 
-the idea of this Prince, who was the son of their 
late good King and the beloved Queen Dolorez. 

“Hurrah for Prince Dolor! Let Prince 
Dolor be our sovereign ! ” rang from end to end 
of the kingdom. Everybody tried to remember 
what a dear baby he once was — how like his 
mother, who had been so sweet and kind, and 
his father, the finest-looking king that ever 
reigned. Nobody remembered his lameness — 
or, if they did, they passed it over as a matter 
of no consequence. They were determined to 
have him to reign over them, boy as he was — 
perhaps just because he was a boy, since in 
that case the great nobles thought they should 
be able to do as they liked with the country. 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


127 


Accordingly, with a fickleness not confined 
to the people of Nomansland, no sooner was 
the late King laid in his grave than they pro- 
nounced him to have been a usurper; turned 
all his family out of the palace, and left it 
empty for the reception of the new sovereign, 
whom they went to fetch with great rejoicing, a 
select body of lords, gentlemen, and soldiers 
travelling night and day in solemn procession 
through the country until they reached Hope- 
less Tower. 

There they found the Prince, sitting calmly 
on the floor — deadly pale, indeed, for he ex- 
pected a quite different end from this, and was 
resolved, if he had to die, to die courageously, 
like a Prince and a King. 

But when they hailed him as Prince and 
King, and explained to him how matters stood, 
and went down on their knees before him, offer- 
ing the crown (on a yelvet cushion, with four 
golden tassels, each nearly as big as his head) 
— small though he was'and lame, which lame- 
ness the courtiers pretended not to notice — 
there came such a glow into his face, such a 
dignity into his demeanor, that he became beau- 
tiful, king-like. 

Yes,” he said, “ if you desire it, I will be 


128 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


your king. And I will do my best to make my 
people happy.” 

Then there arose, from inside and outside the 
tower, such a shout as never yet was heard 
across the lonely plain. 

Prince Dolor shrank a little from the deafen- 
ing sound. “ How shall I be able to rule all 
this great people? You forget, my lords, that 
I am only a little boy still.” 

“ Not so very little,” was the respectful an- 
swer. “ We have searched in the records, and 
found that your Royal Highness — your Majesty, 
I mean — is precisely fifteen years old.” 

“Ami?” said Prince Dolor; and his first 
thought was a thoroughly childish pleasure that 
he should now have a birthday, with a whole 
nation to keep it. Then he remembered that 
his childish days were done. He was a mon- 
arch now. Even his nurse, to whom, the mo- 
ment he saw her, he had held out his hand, 
kissed it reverently, and called him ceremoni- 
ously “ his Majesty the King.” 

“ A king must be always a king, I suppose,” 
said he half sadly, when, the ceremonies over, 
he had been left to himself for just ten minutes, 
to put off his boy’s clothes and be reattired in 
magnificent robes, before he was conveyed away 
from his tower to the royal palace. 


THE LriTLE LAME PRINCE. 


129 


He could take nothing with him ; indeed, he 
soon saw that, however politely they spoke, 
they would not allow him to take any thing. 
If he was to be their king, he must give up his 
old life forever. So he looked with tender fare- 
well on his old books, old toys, the furniture he 
knew so well, and the familiar plain in all its 
levelness — ugly, yet pleasant, simply because 
it was familiar. 

“ It will be a new life in a new world,” said 
he to himself; “but I’ll remember the old 
things still. And, oh ! if before I go I could 
but once see my dear old godmother.” 

While he spoke he had laid himself down on 
the bed for a minute or two, rather tired with 
his grandeur, and confused by the noise of the 
trumpets which kept playing incessantly down 
below. He gazed, half sadly, up to the sky- 
light, whence there came pouring a stream of 
sun-rays, with innumerable motes floating there, 
like a bridge thrown between heaven and earth. 
Sliding down it, as if she had been made of air, 
came the little old woman in gray. 

So beautiful looked she — old as she was — 
that Prince Dolor was at first quite startled by 
the apparition. Then he held out his arms in 
eager delight. 


130 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


“ Oh, godmother, you have not forsaken me ! ” 

“ Not at all, my son. You may not have 
seen me, but I have seen you many a time.” 

“How?” 

“ Oh, never mind. I can turn into any thing 
I please, you know. And I have been a bear- 
skin rug, and a crystal goblet — and sometimes 
I have changed from inanimate to animate na- 
ture, put on feathers, and made myself very 
comfortable as a bird.” 

“ Ha !” laughed the Prince, a new light break- 
ing in upon him, as he caught the infection of 
her tone, lively and mischievous. “ Ha, ha ! a 
lark, for instance?” 

“ Or a magpie,” answered she, with a capital 
imitation of Mistress Mag’s croaky voice. “ Do 
you suppose I am always sentimental, and never 
funny? If any thing makes you happy, gay, or 
grave, don’t you think it is more than likely to 
come through your old godmother?” 

“ I believe that,” said the boy tenderly, hold- 
ing out his arms. They clasped one another 
in a close embrace. 

Suddenly Prince Dolor looked very anxious. 
“ You will not leave me now that I am a king? 
Otherwise I had rather not be a king at all. 
Promise never to forsake me ! ” 


THE Lrn^LE LAME PRINCE. 


131 


The little old woman laughed gayly. “ For- 
sake you? that is impossible. But it is just 
possible you may forsake me. Not probable, 
though. Your mother never did, and she was 
a queen. The sweetest queen in all the world 
was the Lady Dolorez.” 



“ Tell me about her,” said the boy eagerly. 
“ As I get older I think I can understand more. 
Do tell me.” 

“ Not now. You couldn’t hear me for the 
trumpets and the shouting. But when you are 
come to the palace, ask for a long-closed up- 


132 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

per room, which looks out upon the Beautiful 
Mountains ; open it and take it for your own. 
Whenever you go there you will always find 
me, and we will talk together about all sorts of 
things.” 

“ And about my mother? ” 

The little old woman nodded — and kept nod- 
ding and smiling to herself many times, as the 
boy repeated over and over again the sweet 
words he had never known or understood- — 
“ my mother — my mother.” 

“ Now I must go,” said she, as the trumpets 
blared louder and louder, and the shouts of the 
people showed that they would not endure any 
delay. “Good-by, Good-by! Open the win- 
dow and out I fly.” 

Prince Dolor repeated gayly the musical 
rhyme — but all the while tried to hold his god- 
mother fast. 

Vain, vain ! for the moment that a knocking 
was heard at his door the sun went behind a 
cloud, the bright stream of dancing motes van- 
ished, and the little old woman with them — he 
knew not where. 

So Prince Dolor quitted his tower — which 
he had entered so mournfully and ignominiously 
as a little helpless baby carried in the deaf- 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


133 


mute’s arms — quitted it as the great King of 
Nomansland. 

The only thing he took away with him was 
something so insignificant that none of the lords, 
gentlemen, and soldiers who escorted him with 
such triumphant splendor could possibly notice 
it — a tiny bundle, which he had found lying 
on the floor just where the bridge of sunbeams 
had rested. At once he had pounced upon it, 
and thrust it secretly into his bosom, where it 
dwindled into such small proportions that itmight 
have been taken for a mere chest-comforter, a 
bit of flannel, or an old pocket-handkerchief. 

It was his travelling-cloak ! 


CHAPTER X. 


D id Prince Dolor become a great king? 
Was he, though little more than a boy, 
“ the father of his people,” as all kings 
ought to be? Did his reign last long — long 
and happy? and what were the principal events 
of it, as chronicled in the history of Nomans- 
land ? 

Why, if I were to answer all these questions 
I should have to write another book. And Pm 
tired, children, tired — as grown-up people 
sometimes are, though not always with play. 
(Besides, I have a small person belonging to 
me, who, though she likes extremely to listen 
to the word-of-mouth story of this book, grum- 
bles much at the writing of it, and has run 
about the house clapping her hands with joy 
when mamma told her that it was nearly fin- 
ished. But that is neither here nor there.) 

I have related, as well as I could, the history 
of Prince Dolor, but with the history of No- 
mansland I am as yet unacquainted. If any 
body knows it, perhaps he or she will kindly 
write it all down in another book. But mine is 
done. 


134 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


135 


However, of this I am sure, that Prince Dolor 
made an excellent king. Nobody ever does any 
thing less well, not even the commonest duty of 
common daily life, for having such a godmother 
as the little old woman clothed in gray, whose 
name is — well, I leave you to guess. Nor, I 
think, is any body less good, less capable of 
both work and enjoyment in after-life, for having 
been a little unhappy in his youth, as the Prince 
had been. 

I can not take upon myself to say that he 
was always happy now — who is? — or that he 
had no cares ; just show me the person who is 
quite free from them ! But whenever people 
worried and bothered him — as they did some- 
times, with state etiquette, state squabbles, and 
the like, setting up themselves and pulling down 
their neighbors — he would take refuge in that 
upper room which looked out on the Beautiful 
Mountains, and, laying his head on his god- 
mother’s shoulder, become calmed and at rest. 

Also, she helped him out of any difficulty 
which now and then occurred — for there never 
was such a wise old woman. When the people 
of Nomansland raised the alarm — as sometimes 
they did — for what people can exist without a 
little fault-finding? — and began to cry out, 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


136 

“Unhappy is the nation whose king is a child,” 
she would say to him gently, “You are a child. 
Accept the fact. Be humble — be teachable. 
Lean upon the wisdom of others till you have 
gained your own.” 

He did so. He learned how to take advice 
before attempting to give it, to obey before he 
could righteously command. He assembled 
round him all the good and wise of his kingdom 
— laid all its affairs before them, and was 
guided by their opinions until he had maturely 
formed his own. 

This he did sooner than any body would have 
imagined who did not know of his godmother 
and his travelling-cloak — two secret blessings, 
which, though many guessed at, nobody quite 
understood. Nor did they understand why he 
loved so the little upper room, except that it 
had been his mother’s room, from the window 
of which, as people remembered now, she had 
used to sit for hours watching the Beautiful 
Mountains. 

Out of that window he used to fly — not very 
often ; as he grew older, the labors of state pre- 
vented the frequent use of his travelling-cloak ; 
still he did use it sometimes. Only now it was 
less for his own pleasure and amusement than 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


37 


to see something or investigate something for 
the good of the country. But he prized his 
godmother’s gift as dearly as ever. It was a 
comfort to him in all his vexations ; an enhance- 
ment of all his joys. It made him almost for- 
get his lameness — which was never cured. 

However, the cruel things which had been 
once foreboded of him did not happen. His 
misfortune was not such a heavy one after all. 
It proved to be of much less inconvenience, 
even to himself, than had been feared. A coun- 
cil of eminent surgeons and mechanicians in- 
vented for him a wonderful pair of crutches, 
with the help of which, though he never walked 
easily or gracefully, he did manage to walk so 
as to be quite independent. And such was the 
love his people bore him that they never heard 
the sound of his crutches on the marble palace- 
floors without a leap of the heart, for they knew 
that good was coming to them whenever he ap- 
proached them. 

Thus, though he never walked in processions, 
never reviewed his troops mounted on a mag- 
nificent charger, nor did any of the things which 
make a show monarch so much appreciated, he 
was able for all the duties and a great many of 
the pleasures of his rank. When he held his 


138 THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 

levees, not standing, but seated on a throne in- 
geniously contrived to hide his infirmity, the 
people thronged to greet him ; when he drove 
out through the city streets, shouts followed 
him wherever he went — every countenance 
brightened as he passed, and his own, perhaps, 
was the brightest of all. 

First, because, accepting his affliction as in- 
evitable, he took it patiently ; second, because, 
being a brave man, he bore it bravely, trying to 
forget himself, and live out of himself, and in 
and for other people. Therefore other people 
grew to love him so well that I think hundreds 
of his subjects might have been found who were 
almost ready to die for their poor lame King. 

He never gave them a queen. When they 
implored him to choose one, he replied that his 
country was his bride, and he desired no other. 
But, perhaps, the real reason was that he shrank 
from any change ; and that no wife in all the 
world would have been found so perfect, so lov- 
able, so tender to him in all his weaknesses, as 
his beautiful old godmother. 

His four-and-twenty other godfathers and 
godmothers, or as many of them as were still 
alive, crowded round him as soon as he as- 
cended the throne. He was very civil to them 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 1 39 

all, but adopted none of the names they had 
given him, keeping to the one by which he had 
been always known, though it had now almost 
lost its meaning ; for King Dolor was one of 
the happiest and cheerfulest men alive. 

He did a good many things, however, unlike 
most men and most kings, which a little aston- 
ished his subjects. First, he pardoned the con- 
demned woman who had been his nurse, and 
ordained that from henceforward there should 
be no such thing as the punishment of death in 
Nomansland. All capital criminals were to be 
sent to perpetual imprisonment in Hopeless 
Tower and the plain round about it, where they 
could do no harm to any body, and might in 
time do a little good, as the woman had done. 

Another surprise he shortly afterward gave 
the nation. He recalled his uncle’s family, who 
had fled away in terror to another country, and 
restored them to all their honors in their own. 
By and by he chose the eldest son of his eldest 
cousin (who had been dead a year), and had 
him educated in the royal palace, as the heir to 
the throne. This little prince was a quiet, unob- 
trusive boy, so that every body wondered at 
the King’s choosing him when there were so 
many more ; but as he grew into a fine young 


140 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


fellow, good and brave, they agreed that the 
King judged more wisely than they. 

“ Not a lame prince, either,” his Majesty 
observed one day, watching him affectionately ; 
for he was the best runner, the highest leaper, 
the keenest and most active sportsman in the 
country. “ One can not make one’s self, but 
one can sometimes help a little in the making 
of somebody else. It is Well.” 

This was said, not to any of his great lords 
and ladies, but to a good old woman — his first 
homely nurse — whom he had sought for far 
and wide, and at last found in her cottage 
among the Beautiful Mountains. He sent for 
her to visit him once a year, and treated her 
with great honor until she died. He was equally 
kind, though somewhat less tender, to his other 
nurse, who, after receiving her pardon, returned 
to her native town and grew into a great lady, 
and I hope a good one. But as she was so 
grand a personage now, any little faults she had 
did not show 

Thus King Dolor’s reign passed, year after 
year, long and prosperous. Whether he were 
happy — “ as happy as a king ” — is a question 
no human being can decide. But I think he 
was, because he had the power of making every 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


41 


body about him happy, and did it too ; also be- 
cause he was his godmother’s godson, and could 
shut himself up with her whenever he liked, in 
that quiet little room in view of the Beautiful 
Mountains, which nobody else ever saw or cared 
to see. They were too far off, and the city lay 
so low. But there they were, all the time. No 
change ever came to them ; and I think, at any 
day throughout his long reign, the King would 
sooner have lost his crown than have lost sight 
of the Beautiful Mountains. 

In course of time, when the little Prince, his 
cousin, was grown into a tall young man, capa- 
ble of all the duties of a man, his Majesty did 
one of the most extraordinary acts ever known 
in a sovereign beloved by his people and pros- 
perous in his reign. He announced that he 
wished to invest his heir with the royal purple 
— at any rate, for a time — while he himself 
went away on a distant journey, whither he had 
long desired to go. 

Every body marvelled, but nobody opposed 
him. Who could oppose the good King, who 
was not a young king now? And besides, f:he 
nation had a great admiration for the young 
Regent — and, possibly, a lurking pleasure in 
change. 


142 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


So there was fixed a day when all the people 
whom it would hold assembled in the great 
square of the capital, to see the young Prince 
installed solemnly in his new duties, and under- 
taking his new vows. He was a very fine young 
fellow : tall and straight as a poplar-tree, with a 
frank, handsome face — a great deal handsomer 
than the King, some people said, but others 
thought differently. However, as his Majesty 
sat on his throne, with his gray hair falling from 
underneath his crown, and a few wrinkles show- 
ing in spite of his smile, there was something 
about his countenance which made his people, 
even while they shouted, regard him with a 
tenderness mixed with awe. 

He lifted up his thin, slender hand, and there 
came a silence over the vast crowd immediately. 
Then he spoke, in his own accustomed way, 
using no grand words, but saying what he had 
to say in the simplest fashion, though with a 
clearness that struck their ears like the first song 
of a bird in the dusk of the morning. 

“ My people, I am tired : I want to rest. I have 
had a long reign, and done much work — at 
least, as much as I was able to do. Many 
might have done it better than I — but none 
with a better will. Now I leave it to others ; I 
am tired, very tired. Let me go home.” 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 1 43 

There arose a murmur — of content or dis- 
content none could well tell ; then it died down 
again, and the assembly listened silently once 
more. 

“ I am not anxious about you, my people — 
my children,” continued the King. “ You are 
prosperous and at peace. I leave you in good 
hands. The Prince Regent will be a fitter king 
for you than I.” 

“No, no, no!” rose the universal shout — 
and those who had sometimes found fault with 
him shouted louder than any body. But he 
seemed as if he heard them not. 

“ Yes, yes,” said he, as soon as the tumult 
had a little subsided : and his voice sounded 
firm and clear; and some very old people, who 
boasted of having seen him as a child, declared 
that his face took a sudden change, and grew as 
young and sweet as that of the little Prince 
Dolor. “Yes, I must go. It is time for me to 
go. Remember me sometimes, my people, for 
I have loved you well. And I am going a long 
way, and I do not think I shall come back any 
more.” 

He drew a little bundle out of his breast 
pocket — a bundle that nobody had ever seen 
before. It was small and shabby-looking, and 


44 


THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE. 


tied Up with many knots, which untied them- 
selves in an instant. With a joyful countenance, 
he muttered over it a few half-intelligible words. 
Then, so suddenly that even those nearest to his 
Majesty could not tell how it came about, the 
King was a\^ay — away — floating right up in 
the air — upon something, they knew not what, 
except that it appeared to be as safe and pleas- 
ant as the wings of a bird. 

And after him sprang a bird — a dear little 
lark, rising from whence no one could say, since 
larks do not usually build their nests in the 
pavement of city squares. But there it was, a 
real lark, singing far over their heads, louder 
and clearer, and more joyful as it vanished 
further into the blue sky. 

Shading their eyes, and straining their ears, 
the astonished people stood until the whole 
vision disappeared like a speck in the clouds — 
the rosy clouds that overhung the Beautiful 
Mountains. 

Then they guessed that they should see their 
beloved King no more. Well-beloved as he 
was, he had always been somewhat of a mys- 
tery to them, and such he remained. But they 
went home, and, accepting their new monarch, 
obeyed him faithfully for his cousin’s sake. 


THE LTTTLE LAME PRINCE. 1 45 

King Dolor was never again beheld or heard 
of in his own country. But the good he had 
done there lasted for years and years ; he was 
long missed and deeply mourned — at least, so 
far as any body could mourn one who was gone 
on such a happy journey. 

Whither he went, or who went with him, it is 
impossible to say. But I myself believe that his 
godmother took him on his travelling-cloak to 
the Beautiful Mountains. What he did there, 
or where he is now, who can tell? I can not. 
But one thing I am quite sure of, that, wherever 
he is, he is perfectly happy. 

And so, when I think of him, am I. 


THE END. 



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a photo-gelatine frontispiece from original drawings by Etheldred B. 
Barry, i vol., square i2mo., cloth, gilt top, ^1.25. 

A new and dainty edition of Ouida’s most exquisite and touching story. 

Published by JOSEPH KNIGHT COMPANY, 

196 Summer St., Boston, Mass. 






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